Cruel Justice part 6&7 ul'ed getting to the end!
by gal
Summary: Takatori's dead, Weiß is about to disband. Omi drags Aya to a carnival since it's the last night it will be in town. Schu had the same idea and took Nagi to the same festival. When they meet Schu is given an opportunity he cannot pass up. Some shounen-ai
1. Cruel Justice * Disclaimer

Summary: Takatori is dead and Weiß is about to disband. Before they do though, Omi drags Aya to a carnival since it's the last night it will be in town. It seems Schuldich had the same idea and dragged Nagi out to the same carnival. What happens when the two teams meet, and Schuldich is given an opportunity he cannot pass up... 

Keywords: Omi, Aya, Schuldich, Nagi, mental games 

Timeline: Between episodes 15 and 16 

Spoilers: Um, all the eps nearly to 15 and bits and pieces afterwards (blatant foreshadowing and such). So... pretty much all the anime. 

Authors: Sky and Gal   
Our first combo fic! We've rp'ed together for awhile in various SM and WK rpgs, but this is our first official co-authored fanfiction. And yes I like co-authoring with my friends as you may have noticed since I often write with my Yaoi Partner in Crime, Ana. :P Co-authors keep me focused and stuff. If I try to write alone I get writer's block. Erm, anyway.   
Sky: Omi, Nagi   
Gal: Aya, Schuldich, Crawford 

Warnings: language, shounen-ai, spoilers, usual Schwarz cruelty (Schuldich and Nagi team up to play a game with Aya and Omi! Not -that- kinda game. It's actually a pretty non-yaoi fic.), some Brad and Aya bastardizing 

Disclaimer: We don't own these boys. Nope. We can dream though... Nor do I own the song "Lullabye". The Cure does. 

The little _(#*)_ notations are footnote markers, mostly markers for the English translation of many German terms and phrases Schuldich uses. The translation is at the bottom of the fic. Right above the Review button! ^__^ 

Enjoy and please read and review! 

Sky: Lumina@Myrpgs.Com  
Gal: Abyssinian@Kritiker.Org 


	2. Cruel Justice * Part One

Cruel Justice 

* 

__

on candystripe legs spiderman comes  
softly through the shadow of the evening sun  
stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead  
looking for the victim shivering in bed  
searching out fear in the gathering gloom and  
suddenly! a movement in the corner of the  
room! and there is nothing i can do when i  
realise with freight that the spiderman is having  
me for dinner tonight

quietly he laughs and shaking his head creeps  
closer now closer to the foot of the bed and  
softer than shadow and quicker than flies his  
arms are all around me and his tongue in my  
eyes "be still be calm be quiet now my precious  
boy don't struggle like that or i will only love  
you more for it's much too late to get away or  
turn on the light the spiderman is having you  
for dinner tonight"  


and i feel like i'm being eaten by a thousand  
million shivering furry holes and i know that in  
the morning i will wake up in the shivering cold  
and the spiderman is always hungry...

- "Lullabye", The Cure

* 

The fading light of the setting sun shone over the high-rises of Tokyo, bathing them in the gold light as evening started settling over the metropolis. In the day the city was a busy, bustling press of people moving through the city about their own lives, little caring of the environment around them and never knowing of those who strive to keep it that way. It was a city of crime and pain, but it was a city like any other. Whether or not that was a good or bad thing was an unknown. It simply was. In the day it was blinding bright and glaring, a place where people lived and worked and sometimes it seemed nothing more. But in the early dusk light, with the light of the day still lingering though the tinges of night were creepy over the city, it was something more. The golden rays of the sun as it finally sunk into the Tokyo Bay washed over the buildings and waves brushing the shore, giving Tokyo an almost heavenly glow before that too would fade into the void of black night. 

It was this time of day that one resident of Tokyo preferred above all, the day ending to bring the night where he worked, where he was as close to his true self as he could ever dream to once more be. It was the night that embraced this man now, giving him the cover of shadows to do as he chose due to his ill fate life gave to him. There was something about the black velvet sky and the white diamond stars scattered over the dome sky that was more... honest and truthful than the glaring bright day. Perhaps because he did not have to show the false face of merely a florist to the world. No... The cover of night with only the moonlight streaming down allowed him to slip through the shadows, the glint of his blade showing before a wash of red. Mission. Then a return to the home he knew now to sleep... to put away the false face of icy silence and fall to nightmares of his crimes and dreams of his life returning to how it once was. 

It was through the gentle almost peaceful quiet that two walked side by side, Fujimiya Aya's hands in the pockets of his dark black slacks, a white button down shirt covering his torso. The silver cross hanging about his neck caught the lights in the city, the streetlights giving him almost an angel's glow on his porcelain skin and dark red hair contrasting against his natural pale complexion. At his side walked the true angel of Weiß, Tsukiyono Omi, but for once the two were not moving towards a mission site, stealthily sticking to the shadows. Aya's gait was the same, a graceful step to his walk like that of a cat he was named for, moving easily through the night as it claimed its assassin hunters that prowled in its darkness. 

Instead of moving through the darkening streets of Tokyo as nameless and faceless assassins, hiding in the shadows to do their work unseen, the pair moved as part of the population they protected. And Aya for the life of him didn't know why he had agreed to do this, not really. He seldom went out at night, preferring the solitude and company of a book, something that wouldn't ask him questions or annoy him by interrupting the quiet silence he found comfort and familiarity in. The four members of Weiß would actually probably never be moving through Tokyo in secret, clad in their assassin gear and weapons ready, for Weiß was no longer. Persia, the giver of missions and for all intents and purposes, was dead. Aya's own reason for taking missions as Takatori Reiji had been dead a little under a month. Weiß had completed a mission a week ago of eliminating a small drug ring that was evidenced to have been in Reiji's control and since then... nothing. All evidence of his controlling corrupt reign were quickly disappearing at the bladed, clawed, wire, and darted hands of the white assassins. 

A soft sigh passed over the redhead's surprisingly soft rosen lips before they were pressed tightly into a thin line once more, a glance given to the boy at his side. Why **did** he allow him to talk him into coming with him... He still had matters to take care of. Since his revenge on the one who had framed his parents and struck down his dear sister had been extracted, he had no more business in Tokyo and did not wish to stay. He already had arrangements made to move Aya-chan to a different hospital and he had found a small apartment that would suit him fine in a small city by the oceanfront. He had arrangements to make, things to do, a few personal items still to pack... 

Omi had tried to arrange a 'night out' for the four members, hearing about a festival in town he thought they would all enjoy. Little did the youngest member of Weiß know that it was the same annual festival he had accompanied his imouto to... all those years ago. How he let himself get dragged to this he really had no idea. Aya had been hoping that Ken and Youji would agree to go and Omi would be appeased and he could conveniently slip away and not go. But missions and such had not allowed them to go until tonight, the last night the festival was happening. The same night Youji had a hoooot hoooot HOOOT date he just could not cancel and Ken's soccer team he coached had a championship game. Which left the katana expert as the only one who could accompany the hacker assassin. He should have said no and left it at that. Held firm, his decision unchangeable. He should have just ignored the question or glared at Omi for even **thinking** he'd want to go out. He was Fujimiya Aya-kun after all. Antisocial. Cold. Hater of everything. He did not did not did **not** want to go to a festival. Especially this one. 

Damn Omi. 

He found his weakness. He didn't even know how the boy did it. He didn't even think he had a weakness. He'd said no and was going to leave it at that... and then he made the mistake of looking into those bright blue eyes of the genki member of Weiß. It was some kind of curse, really it was. The boy could guilt trip like no other, use that sweet innocence and cheer to get whatever he wanted even from the most stoic and uncaring person flinch to see those eyes half lid shut and that sweet face falter in disappointment. Omi had shuffled his feet and murmured that he would just go alone... but it was ok really! He'd have fun and hoped that Aya had a good night too! 

Damn damn Omi. 

Using the excuse that it had slipped his mind but he had actually finished the book he was currently reading (when in fact he had another 56 pages or so) he agreed reluctantly to go. It was something about those eyes... they reminded him far too much of his sister's gaze, reflecting every emotion in them, happy or sad, for the world to openly see. The excitement in the boy's eyes, lighting up his face to hear the male agree to going with him, was incomparable to anything else. It was moments like this he hated, when the others of Weiß were able to strike something in him even if they didn't know it. He kept it hidden of course, not wanting to enjoy their company and let himself try to be happy... he had given up feeling and living, living on for his sister until she awoke again. He had lost so many so quickly, and killing Reiji hadn't fixed it. It hurt, and if he drew close to anyone else, he knew it would just hurt more when they were injured or he had to leave. Which was why he was planning on leaving Tokyo in roughly a week's time. There was no reason for him to stay. 

"Here we are..." he said in his soft deep tones barely above a whisper as the two stood at the bottom of the ascending stone steps leading to the entrance of the festival. The silent assassin kept his deep orchid blushed gaze away from Omi as he gazed up at the stairs, able to hear the patter of rain and his sister's laughter over it in his ear from two years ago... the last time she had been with him, before her smile was taken from her and his went with it. 

Unknowing, and thus completely unrealizing, of the significance that Aya held to the festival that was awaiting them, Omi found it difficult to contain the wide smile that persistently tried to plaster itself over his forever bright features. This was the kind of thing he rarely got a chance to, living the life of an assassin, and only that, tended to kill off anything remotely resembling fun. Much less anything on the scale of a full festival. 

There was no way to lie successfully about it; Omi had been looking forward to this night and festival for too long now. The past few months had been rough on all of them, but there were the occasional moments where he succumbed to selfishness and wondered if, perhaps, he had been hit worst of all. First with the memories that knowing Shota and being involved with helping the boy through his ordeal had brought, and then finding out the bitter truth that he'd had a family, once, and a name that was not Omi. And further, the more biting hurt of knowing that his own father had not paid a ransom he could have easily afforded. Then finding out about Masafumi, and enduring the painful migraines that had haunted him when memories tried to resurface, only have to his own instinct of self defense shove them away in an endless battle, to save him from the pain of the heart, from the pain of a little boy who had been abandoned into a world of cold darkness by his own blood. Even then, beyond that, there was the incident of discovering Hirofumi and thus his true heritage, as spoken by the other Takatori; Omi had been finding himself torn on everything, right down to the point where he had turned on Weiß itself to protect the one he thought his loving brother. A loving brother who had, not even a week later, beaten him for information and key secrets of the organization Omi worked for. And even Ouka... Who had died just because she had known and been blood relation to the young assassin. The young assassin who'd had to move on and watch his newly found uncle die in his arms, and then watch his own father be cut apart by the blade of the one who stood beside him now. 

So, yes, sometimes he did think that he had been the worst hit; to have found and not only lost, but been the main hand responsible in killing his own family certainly lent to that thought. As did his occasional depression, which carried through only when he was alone with himself, having the time to merely think back on it all and feel each and every hurt again and again. It was a wonder that he could even find the spark of energy in him that allowed him to don that mask of happiness that all knew him for. Then again, on his worst days, he didn't succeed in that, merely deciding to rest in his room and claim exhaustion, which was often true enough. After all, he lived on a habit of keeping himself too busy to think; when he couldn't think, he couldn't reflect, thus he didn't have to face the pain that was his past. Save that, when he kept himself to busy, he grew too tired to do much, then making all claims to exhaustion true. And the past few months had held him claiming that so often that it ceased to hold the slightest humor or refuge. Merely a tired young killer with no family and few friends beyond the borders of Weiß. 

Weiß. His life and friends. A ragtag group of people with pasts they seemed to wish to forget, and with members who sometimes seemed envious that Omi did forget his, by choices made years ago, and reaffirmed with the helpful talk of one Manx. It wasn't the most stable environment to put a kid, much less to put one as the leader of such a group, but it had happened and worked out. And as odd as his friends might have been, they were still his friends. Even the cold-seeming Aya, the one that Omi had feared losing his friendship to because of his blood ties, was his friend (in as close as a sense that the katana-wielding assassin would allow), as confirmed by the ruby-haired male's statement that the boy was Tsukiyono Omi, not Takatori Mamoru. A statement that Omi still sometimes doubted, but tried to hold true. 

"Baka!" 

Admonishing himself aloud, Omi shook his head to clear it of the depressing thoughts, stretching his arms skyward and taking a deep breath of the cooling night air. This was to be a night of fun, not depression. he'd managed to cajole Aya into going with him as well, thus he just HAD to make it a great night, if only to prove to the other that his decision to attend the festival had been the right one. So, fun it was going to be! 

Pushing the sleeves of his too-long, deep red sweatshirt up so that his hands were actually visible, the genki teen grinned up at Aya and nodded. "We're here, finally!" he announced in agreement. "Now, Aya-kun, stop staring at it and let's go before the fun's all gone!" With that, Omi was off, trying to run up the steps two at a time, but not before grabbing Aya's wrist and attempting to tug the elder male along with him. 

As the two stood there in their contemplations, Omi on the losses in the past few months, Aya thinking on his losses from years ago, the crimson haired male didn't even notice that he was unconsciously pulling on the gold dangle earring from his left earlobe. His own thoughts of course moved to his imouto, lying alone and still in a hospital a few miles away while he was here, at the festival which had meant so much to her that much like Omi, she had dragged him beloved oniichan to it. Just a **bit** more willingly than Omi had found the redhead to be. His eyes fluttered shut as he heard the sounds of the festival floating down through the cool night air, a touch of winter temperatures still in the air once the sun went down. As spring settled more over the city it would dispel but there would always that cool in the air. Until the unbearable heat of the Tokyo summer. 

His attention got pulled from his own thoughts of Aya-chan and how he shouldn't be here without her... a festival she loved and always waited every year for... when Omi's loud cheerful voice suddenly broke the silence. Blinking in mild confusion he started to part his lips to ask why Omi had called himself a baka only to urk lightly as he was pulled by the boy's hand. He had incredible strength Aya felt as he was pulled up the stairs, his long legs easily taking the steps two at a time. The sweet sound of his own sister's voice rising in his mind, the girl begging the crimson haired male to _'hurry up hurry up! There's fun to be had, food to eat, things to shop for!'_ Cursing softly he bitterly reminding himself that Omi was not his sibling despite the similar sweet nature and bright eyes and it was stupid for him to constantly be comparing the two just because of similar events. 

Getting to the top of the stairs, he withdrew his hand from Omi's hold, slipping it back into his pocket as he glanced about the festival. Far too many memories assaulting him. Dammit why did he come. Dammit why did Omi have to just look so grateful for him coming, like he was looking forward to his company? He really wasn't great company. He couldn't stand himself sometimes. "Where to first, Omi... and don't say 'everywhere'." 

*

__

~Naaaaaaaaaaaaaggles, mein Gott(1*) I'm bored! Entertain me!~ came the nasally almost whining tones across town in the Schwarz's new base with SZ, the Space Room. Schuldich padded through the room heading for the desk where a dark haired boy was typing furiously at... something. He didn't know. He was bored. German telepaths being bored is always a bad thing. Even though he was a prick, Reiji being dead kinda sucked. Usually on dull evenings he entertained himself by hunting down the minds of prospective clients of Takatori Enterprises and gave them sudden doubts about investing with Reiji's corporation. What a surprise their old boss got come morning when prospective clients he thought he'd had the deal perfectly closed with backed out. 

Hehe.. beat Schuldich with a gold club will he? He found ways of revenge he couldn't be pinpointed for. 

But with Reiji dead, all of his old clients were quickly being picked off. Which left a very bored telepath. Awwww. 

Shrugging lightly in thought, Schuldich flopped down to lean against the corner of the desk, glancing down at Nagi. "I'm bored Munchkin. Braddy's at some dumb meeting with SZ agents, Farfarello is hunting down some clergy. Just you and me tonight. I hate being cooped up. So we're going out." Grinning lightly, "Are we going to do this the nice way, or the hard way. I can enjoy either way." 

There was an almost visible twitch in the form of Naoe Nagi as the telepath both sat on his working desk and spoke the words as he had, completing two of the most dangerous tasks known to man: speaking with the telekinetic and encroaching on his space without invite. People had been smashed into walls for far less; it was a wonder that Schuldich had not a broken nose yet. Then again, with the sometimes crooked twist of the German's nose, one could guess that it had met such a broken fate before. Possible even by meeting with a wall, or a book, or something being propelled by an unseen hand. One never knew, and Schuldich would never admit to having his ass, and pride, kicked by a boy who was around six years younger than himself. 

"Where are we going out to, and when are we leaving." There was no defiance in his voice this evening, Nagi having recently been reminded by the telepath that none of his secrets were safe, and that such secrets tended to get out when one didn't go along with the German's wants and plans. However, knowing that did not stop the teen from giving the telepath a powerful telekinetic shove to get him off his desk as he worked about completing his current set of program codes. Damn, what a perfectly good evening wasted, having to be drug about with the telepath uselessly. This... was gonna suck, and not in the method that Schuldich often liked to imply. "And why can't you go out alone, Schuldich?" 

*

The genki boy's mouth promptly shut, containing the 'Everywhere' answer he had been about to utter. Trying to pout, he crossed his arms and gave the other male a lot and soft 'pfft' for his comment. However, despite his best attempts to sulk at the shooting down of his answer, the youth couldn't hide the smile in his eyes as he looked about at it all, vibrant energy that was hiding in sapphire depths, waiting to be released. "Mou, Aya-kun, you restrict things too much!" he complained, his voice light and teasing. "Since you're going to be **so** demanding... Let's grab a snack and just look around!" 

Another mad snatch was made for one of Aya's limbs as the boy started forward. There was just so much to see, do, and be a part of, and he didn't want to let any of it slip past him. This was the last possible night to be doing this, and he very much did NOT want to miss out. If that meant he had to drag Aya to ever last table and vendor, he would. Omi was out to have fun with his friend, before Weiß fell apart and he ended up alone once more. 

Instead of getting his hand Omi grabbed his elbow and it was with a soft sight that Aya allowed himself to be dragged along by the younger assassin-florist. The boy was almost tiring to watch, with all his youthful bright energy. It amazed him that Omi could look at the world with such sweet innocence even though he of all people knew what a horrible place it was. When Aya first joined Weiß he pitied Omi like he'd pitied no one in his life because he was sure that one day some trauma would happen and ruin Omi's cheerful look on the world. He would be jaded, bitter... him. The change of states and personality from Fujimiya Ran to Fujimiya Aya-kun was not an easy one but it was a state that the redhead knew he had to uphold lest he be hurt and near broken by the cruel world once more. 

But Omi had been hit by almost every cruel irony ever in existence... the painful regaining of his memories only to find out that he was related to the many of the ones they hunted, perhaps their worst targets. That he was in the wretched line of Takatoris... Something that had hit Aya hard and personally, to know that he was working with the very son of the man who ruined his life. The fact that he had respected and admired the boy's persistent and dedication to Weiß... only to find out that the boy he respected was a **Takatori** was a revelation that weighed heavy on Aya for a long time. To trust him as Weiß, or hunt him along with the rest of the Takatoris? The decision had been easy though once Omi had made his own decision. That to be Tsukiyono Omi, not Takatori Mamoru. 

Still after everything, after Hirofumi and Masafumi and Ouka, Omi still had that excitement and love for life. It had been many years since, but there had once been a time that Aya had smiled as openly as Omi always did, smiling at the side of the true Fujimiya Aya. But it was difficult to have excitement for something you had put on pause until you were no longer alone. 

Glancing down at the boy's youthful face as they wandered through the milling crowds, he noted the boy's sapphire gaze settling and flaring to life like a blue flame when he saw a small vendor with cotton candy. "Oh no..." Aya said in cool authoritative tones, closing his fingers over the boy's wrist to pull him back before the honey blonde could start heading that way. "I never saw you eat dinner and spun pink sugar is **not** a suitable meal substitute." Glancing around the festival, his violet eyes skimmed over the vendors quickly, looking for something of any type of substance. Something other than pure sugar. How the boy survived on his diet Aya would never know. How he survived before he came to Weiß he definitely would never know. He'd seen the things Ken and Youji brought home when they went shopping. Ken and his Gatorade and cookies, Youji and his syrups and other things _'not to be touched unless you're getting laid'_... Then there was sugar boy, Omi. Aya tried to get the boy to eat something with less than 1/2 sugar content at least once a day. Once a meal if he was really lucky. 

*

Allowing himself to be shoved off the desk with little complaint, Schuldich twined a fire strand of hair about his finger as he regarded the telekinetic. Most times when he spoke to Nagi he chose to stick to spoken word, knowing the boy's dislike of mental invasion as his mind was one thing that was **his** and his alone, but sometimes the German just liked grating him and getting a reaction. He always knew the line between annoyance and getting a glare in response and getting thrown against a wall in response. He only stepped over that line a **-few-** times. Though he did pester the boy continually, it was a ... Schu-caring type of pestering, his way of looking out for him and making sure he still knew how to stick up for himself. Nagi often stayed behind the rest of Schwarz while in combat, so he often gave him the in-your-face attention that could be deadly to a small bodied telekinetic. 

"Leaving as soon as you get to some finishing point on that scribbling you're working on." Peering over, Schuldich just shook his head at the complex coding that only made sense to the Japanese boy. For a moment the notion of lurking around in his head and sipping off his knowledge to get it crossed his mind but he shrugged it off. It didn't matter. Computer work was Nagi's thing. If he really wanted to understand it he could go find some nameless computer programmer to mind rape for the information. Not Nagi. 

"There's a festival in town, some annual sakura blossom early spring... thing. Come on, _kleiner Junge(2*)_. It'll be fun. Go remind ourselves how much society sucks and how sheep-like people are. I can mess with some mundane minds, you can make people drop stuff." Lifting up the strand of bright coppery hair to inspect the ends for split ends he knew to not be there, he shrugged at the last question. "Big Boo told me to keep an eye on you while he had that meeting. Can't have you running off unchaperoned to see that Schreiend bunny girl, ja?" Flipping back untamable hair from his face, he pushed his sunglasses back onto their perfect perch. "I'll buy you a caaaaaaaaandy apple," he said in an almost sing-song voice, "if you go." 

There were two things that Nagi could not stand. One, was someone, especially Schuldich, knowing of his weakness for candy apples. While not exactly a deadly weakness, it **was** one of the best and only ways to get the teen to do anything he was even remotely against. And Schuldich, being the inquisitive telepath and generally, um, unique German that he was, had learned that little tell too quickly, and had a growing tendency to use it to get the boy to leave his computer and get some fresh air (which was some sort of air-related fad that Nagi was certain would never catch on). Two, was anyone talking to him about Tot, his little... interest. Especially when they made references to her as a bunny girl. Tot wasn't a bunny girl; well, okay, she wasn't MUCH of one. Besides, he'd not snuck out to see her for a good two weeks, since Schreiend had taken to being on the move and tracking down the aqua-haired young woman was becoming impossible. Much less tracking her down without a certain telepath following him and making comments about how he felt about the pretty young woman. Or a certain Farfarello following and just staring at her with that quiet eye of his, which barely concealed the man's wants and plans to kill the girl as soon as it was allowed. Those two's habits of following him, whether by choice or Crawford's orders, could just grate the wrong way. Especially for a teen who was trying to cling to the last normal thing he might have in life. Love. Whether or not his was true, it was a normal thing in the mind and body of one who was far from such. He wasn't prepared to give up that faint claim to normalcy just yet. 

"Fine." A sharp click on the keyboard ended the program, and a few more strikes had the entire computer shutting down as the youth stood up and eyed the telepath. "But there are two conditions..." 

Moving around the desk, he attempted to stare down Schuldich, yet proved a very undaunting figure with the other having a good half-foot on his height. "One, you buy me two candy apples," he explained slowly. "And two, you don't say anything to even attempt to embarrass me." Crossing his arms, the boy allowed himself a slight arching of the brow. Schuldich's persuasive and pressuring nature was hard to fight, once the German had his mind on a matter; Nagi could at least figure that the telepath had good intents. Well, whatever qualified as good in the slightly twisted chaos that was Schuldich's mind. "And if you break either of those terms, I use your head to break a new door into the Space Room. Agreed?" 

*

There was a startled squeak in the air as Omi was yanked away from his sacred sugar vendor, a surprised look etched on the boy's face. Not a suitable meal substitute? Sure it was! Ken had always let him have it for supper, along with the soccer player's favorite side dish of Frosted Flakes soaked in chocolate milk. It was a perfectly balanced meal, honestly. Sugar, cereal, and sugarfied milk product; how much healthier could they get? Not much, that was certain! And even being that healthy was difficult with Aya and his habit of making them eat so-called healthy foods. Omi honestly couldn't understand the point of eating vegetables. They weren't of the five main food groups; which, of course, were Sugar, Coffee, Soda, Fast Food, and Chips. It ran much the same with protein and breads, they were just weird substances that had no place in a proper teenager's diet. Not that Omi fought having to eat some of these foreign things known as healthy foods, he just tended to avoid it as much as possible. And avoidance didn't seem to be an option tonight, not with Aya's hand clamped around his wrist and dragging him to one of the vendors who sold those faddish things known as good food. 

"Can I at least have some of the sugar later, Aya-kun?" he asked pleadingly, trying to incite that little flare of a warmly beating heart that he just knew was in the other. As much as Aya tried to hide it, Omi knew that the other had feelings, emotions, and he'd made it a personal vow to get those to show through more. So far, he'd found anger and bitterness, especially with the Takatori mess, but the boy knew that there had to be happiness somewhere. Why else would Aya still be alive? No one could exist without being happy to some extent; it gave meaning to life. And thus explained why Omi was always trying to cheer everyone else up. When people were happy, they valued life, and didn't destroy it. So, to him, it was far better to be genki than to be emotionless as ice. And it was his personal mission to see that everyone, especially Aya, smiled at least once a day. Unfortunately, he didn't always make the quota with Aya, but at least he tried. Tried time and time again, not knowing all of what made Aya as he was, beyond the fact that his own family had been responsible for ruining the other man's life. Then again, it was that fact that made the boy try so hard to cheer Aya up; he felt responsible, to some level, that another's life had been ruined by his own blood, and wanted thus to make up for it in any sense possible. 

"Please? Sugar is some of the healthiest stuff around. Honest, Aya-kun!" 

Well, at least he could keep trying. 

A dark gaze with the lights of the festival reflecting in his plum colored irises set on Omi at that comment, a crimson eyebrow lifting up elegantly. Did he actually say that? Whoever had taught Omi his nutrition class needed to be handed the new Food Groups Pyramid detailing the proper diet... at the very least. No wonder Aya had been sent to Weiß; before he showed up Manx must have been dealing with assassins doing their killings and information retrieval on constant sugar highs. Fun. 

Pulling lightly on Omi's wrist as the press of people threatened to separate them, the redhead sighed faintly and attempted to avert his eyes from the boy's pleading sweet gaze. **That's** how he got and stayed so sweet. Eating pure sugar all the time. Of course if that theory had any truth to it, it would mean that Aya ate rocks to keep his stone and impassive face as well as sucked on lemons to stay so bitter and angsty. Frowning lightly as another group of people moved by them, he tightened his hold on the youngest of Weiß. Looked like he would be staying holding onto the boy to keep them from getting separated or so Omi couldn't wander off for his beloved sugar. It seemed that all of Tokyo had waited until tonight to go to the carnival as evidenced by the mass of people. There was a mild bit of paranoia in Aya that if Omi got separated from him, it just... wouldn't be good. After the boy had been kidnapped from a very crowded party by Schuldich and brought to his own blood brother to be beaten, Aya had kept a closer eye on the first and youngest white assassin. Mild protectiveness but it was something he couldn't help, never could. The same reason why he had followed Ken with that Kase mission. One, to make sure he wasn't going to tell the target to get away, two, he saw something in Ken's aqua gaze when he watched that TV screen. Something he hadn't liked or trusted. But it had hardly been his teammate he hadn't trusted. Now with Reiji dead and their faces very well known before they had been able to stop that, and with Schwarz out there somewhere and their client dead, it just settled something internally for Aya to keep a close watch on Omi. He was an assassin and able to protect himself, but he was the smallest one and the most trusting of people he maybe just shouldn't trust, though that was a close toss up between the two younger members of Weiß. 

It was an overprotective instinct that he had possessed with his sister that extended itself to his teammates in subtle ways, whether they knew it or not. To his dismay. He didn't **want** to grow close to them in **any** way! 

Continuing to turn over the boy's question in his mind, Aya found a line that sold vegetable wraps and moved into it. A faint smirk touched his lips as he reached a compromise in his mind. "I will make a compromise, Omi. For everything we eat that you pick, I get to pick two things. Deal?" 

* 

Sighing low and dramatically, Schuldich's emerald gaze met with Nagi's lapis before his eyes rolled skyward. "You ruin all my fun you little Chibi-Brad. Has he been giving you lessons on how to predict my actions?" The telepath's gaze went shifty eyed for a moment as he considered that possibility. Could Brad's precog powers be rubbing off on their youngest so he knew exactly what Schuldich planned to do? No... Nagi just knew that almost every time he went into public with the German he tried to do **something** to embarrass him. He liked the last time he sicced all the girls on the boy and watched him flail.

"Ja ja, you'll get your two candy apples. But because you're being a little prick I won't ride on the Ferris wheel with you." Giving him a light grin he stared down at the small boy before reaching out to flick his dark bangs from his eyes. "And don't try to intimidate me with your gaze, Nags. We all know you can snap every bone in anyone's body just as I can mushify brains. You don't have to be a little show off." Giving him another grin, this time the corners of his lips turning up in a little smile that spoke of hentai thoughts and yaoi dreams. "But if you wanted to stand close to me and stare dreamily into my eyes... oh Naggles, you could have just told me you cared!" 

Twitch. 

That was the best way to describe Nagi's reaction to Schuldich's oh-so-carefully phrased statement. A twitch and then a good, strong, invisible shove. As careful as he might have been to avoid crossing the fine line, Schuldich was rapidly approaching it, and greatly increasing his chances of going for a short flight, minus the airplane, minus the parachute. Or perhaps one of those long walks off of short docks into bottomless lakes with cement shoes on. Yes, that would work as appropriate punishment if the German kept it up. But, for now, the recently administered, if overpowered, telekinetic shove would suffice as warning. Again. 

"Right, Schuldich," he replied, his tone even. "Believe in that delusion of yours." The urge to roll his eyes was growing a little too hard to resist, so the youth turned about and started to the door. To him, the sooner they left, the sooner they could return, and the sooner he could escape any other taunts that colored his cheeks faint crimson, as the last had. He was not embarrassed. Really. And anyone debating that would find themselves in extremely painful situations of his own devise. 

Pausing, he glanced back at Schuldich. "Are you coming?" Arching his eyebrow at the German, he reached out with his powers again, this time pulling the telepath towards him, or to follow him. If Schuldich wasn't going to move, he figured that he had every right to make him. Call it suitable payback for all the times that the telepath used his telepathy to make him have or recall very... non-innocent dreams. 

* 

__

(1*) mein Gott - my God 

(2*) kleiner Junge - small boy 


	3. Cruel Justice * Part Two

__

Well it's New Years Day (in my time zone, anyway). Soon it will be 2002 in Sky's time zone too. Do you know how we wish to celebrate this New Year? 

By giving you more of Cruel Justice of course! Aren't we just the nicest? ^___^ Here are the next **20**, yea, count em, 20! pages of Cruel Justice. Yes, we are the nicest. So be nice back and read and review, please please? The more you review the more we might be inclined to give you more of our fic. *hums*

Happy 2002! (Even to you people who don't review... *grumbles* Bastards.) 

* 

For everything he got to pick, Aya would get to pick two whole things? That just wasn't fair; Omi just KNEW that the other would pick more of that exotic and weird healthy stuff. Especially if he decided to pick candy as his one item. It was like having to take two steps backwards for every single step forwards. He'd never get anywhere at that rate! Heaven forbid, with those kind of rules forcing him to so much exposure to good, wait, no, HEALTHY foods, he might even begin to like the stuff. Yuck! What kind of deed had he done to deserve punishment such as this? 

With a bit of a pout lining his lips, Omi looked longingly to the distant sugar vendor, then glanced momentarily at the one that sold vegetable wraps. Then back again. He could swear that heaven's light was shining down on the sweetly spun layers of cotton candy, willing all to come forth and partake of the saintly soft sugar. Of course, the fact that the softly shed light was from a lamp rather than heaven's gates was a fact immediately disregarded by the teen, who was seeing exactly what he wanted to see. An angel favored candy vendor, compared to a drab and shadow-hidden healthy food nut-stop. God-sent sustenance compared to stuff that was grown in dirt, of all things. Dirt; imagine that! And Aya claimed it to be healthy! Well, Omi'd never once seen a man live a long healthy life while feasting on dirt that was certain. It all had to be a lie. Really. 

As the line progressed, and the boy realized that trying to slip his wrist from Aya's firm grasp was impossible, Omi began to give up hope for his dearest favorite food. So, with a heavy sigh, he rolled up one of his extra long sleeves some more and finally nodded assent, just as they reached the vendor itself. "Hai, deal, Aya-kun," he muttered, shuffling his feet and praying that the cute content would work. "You get to pick two items for everything I pick..." Glancing up through sandy blond bangs, he blinked his soft sapphire eyes slowly. "Demo, you have to eat anything I pick! No matter what, ne?" 

A tiny smirk touched over Aya's lips before fading far too quickly as he watched Omi gazing fondly off at the cotton candy vendor, then back at the vegetable wrap vendor, then back at the spun sugar, then back at the small shoppe with the non-sugarified food. For a brief moment Omi reminded the redhead of a little puppy. Not in an insulting way. But he had the same look as a pet dog Aya had owned years ago had on his little canine face after he'd been put in the pen when he just wanted to play, looking back and forth between the vast yard with lots of playing room to run and romp and play fetch and chase bugs... and then there was the dog house, dark and small and cold and trapping him, keeping him from play time. He half expected Omi to start making that soft whining whimpering sound in the back of his throat - he already had the puppy eyes down. Had he, Omi may have glimpsed a full on smile or at least a longer lasting smirk from the icy redhead. But thankfully, he didn't. So Aya was safe once more from that damn smiling urge. 

Bah! Enough of that absurd line of thinking. Omi was **not** a puppy. Had the art of puppy dog eyes down, but he was not a canine. God this festival was doing weird things to him. 

Holding up two fingers to indicate his order to the vendor, not bothering to attempt speaking since he'd have to yell over the sound of the laughing crowd, Aya met Omi's eyes for a moment and a faint look of annoyed amusement crossed his face. "Why do I get the feeling I am going to regret this soon..." Sighing faintly, he reached to his back pocket to get his wallet, paying for the two vegetable wraps as they were handed to him, and one was placed into Omi's small hands, Aya only then letting go of his wrist. "Hai. As you have to eat what I pick. Fair?" Shaking his head lightly, he moved his free hand to help roll up Omi's too-long sleeves, only to have them flop back over his hands. "Oi..." he murmured softly, attempting to do so again. Damn shirt was **not** going to defeat him... he was a trained assassin, he thinks that he can properly roll up a rebelling shirt's sleeves so they stop flopping down over the boy's fingers. 

* 

Twitch. 

That was the only way to describe Schuldich's reaction as he tried to resist the temptation as he was first pushed strongly to the floor and then Nagi said **that**. The telepath had let out a soft squeak as his butt met the floor of the Space Room, the male almost automatically took on a seductive 'come hither' sprawl. It wasn't to tease Nagi, not really, it was just habit of a well seasons slut and former prostitute to make everything seductive and sexual related in some manner. Teasing the somewhat shy chibi was just fun, he really couldn't help it. So now he sat on the floor looking like an over-dressed erotica model, twitching to not say what was on his mind. 

'Are you coming'... Asked that after he forcefully pushed him onto his back. Indeed. One of these days he was going to make Nagi sit down and teach him every single phrase that could have a wrongly taken sexual connotation. **That** could take awhile. 

He shouldn't make a comment. He was quickly approaching the point where he would be thrown into a door or a wall or folded up to fit into Nagi's pocket. DAMMIT! What an opportunity and he had to pass it up! He was going to give Nagi yaoi dreams of Reiji for a week now for this-- no. That's too cruel, even for the sadistic Schuldich German mindraping telepath. A bit too much even from The Guilty One. 

Letting himself be pulled towards Nagi for a bit, enjoying the light tickling sensation his telekinesis gave him in odd ways, Schuldich finally got to his feet and brushed off his outfit. "Ja, ja, I'm ready. Wait." After running a hand through his tousled hair in an attempt to tame it back, the strands staying **exactly** as they were moments before, the Schwarz redhead nodded and headed after the boy. "All ready. But for shoving me to the floor Chibi, I'm not buying you a lemonade. Haha."

Softly sighing, the boy shook his head at Schuldich's vanity, resisting his own urge to ruffle up the mess of fiery hair that was the telepath's. Not that anyone would notice; the man had the most unruly hair imaginable. To put one strand out of place was impossible, with the entire mess of it naturally being ruffled beyond repair. Still, whether or not anyone else would notice, Schuldich would, and would most certainly whine and complain about it for the whole night. Such was something that Nagi was not going to endure, whether or not Schuldich was a team member. Or even... a friend, as foreign as the word was. Foreign, evil, and a lie; there were no friends to anyone, according to Crawford. Friends were a lie; a figment of the human imagination to help stave off so-called loneliness. Well, Nagi felt comforted in that loneliness, embracing it as humans had failed to embrace him, all because of his talent. He didn't need friends. Really. 

Bah, that train of though would get him nowhere at all, except back into the whole spiral of bitterness that was his view on society. Not that such was wrong, actually it felt quite normal, it just was never a good thing to sink too far into it, lest he become paranoid and angry with even those of Schwarz, who protected and cared for him when the world dumped him repeatedly into the gutter and away from society. Rejecting society was one thing, but he could never turn his back on Schwarz, or so he thought at least. Schwarz were the only ones that cared beyond Tot. And even then, sometimes Tot just didn't understand his situation. Schwarz did. 

Shaking his head again to ride himself of those haunting thoughts, the youth moved through the door, releasing his hold on Schuldich's frame so that the telepath could walk of his own volition. "Are you planning to make us walk there or drive? Or have you been banned from driving. Again. As usual. Ne?" Not that the German being banned from anything worked; Schuldich could just do as he wished and make everyone forget it, but Crawford still tried to impose limitations on him. Occasionally, such as last week, when someone had run down some Tot-lookalike in Brad's most perfect car; the blame had fallen on Schuldich, though the truth had yet to be determined. It was generally figured, however, that when there was no one to blame, one should blame the guilty one. He liked the attention anyways. 

*

Watching Aya try to battle with his too-long sleeves, Omi giggled. "Ano, Aya-kun, that's not the trick," he finally managed when one rolling-up attempt nearly dislodged his snack from his grasp. Trying to hold in another soft bit of laughter, the teen grabbed the hem of one sleeve and merely pushed it well up and past his wrist, following suit with the other once he'd changed the hand holding his vegetable wrap. So the sleeves were about ten inches too long... Omi loved his shirt, though it was starting to get a little worn. It had been a gift from Manx, way back before Weiß had been formed. Something from the secretary to help the little boy she was to help care for keep warm when no one else was around. She had, accidentally, bought it about seven sizes too big, considering the boy's small frame, and even now, after a few years of growth, it hung loosely on him. But it was comfortable, and reminiscent of the days when he had not yet bloodied his hands with the deaths of others. But, beyond even those sentimental reasons, it was warm, and the night was growing a little cooler with each moment. Thus, the sweater, if too long-sleeved, was perfect. 

Balancing the wrap in his grasp while still trying to hold back the ever-falling folds of cloth, Omi smiled sheepishly. "Ano, okay, so there's no lasting trick to it, demo... Sometimes they do stay rolled up!" Sometimes was truly the keyword, with the sleeves forever dragging down over his hands again. With a determined huff, the youth shoved them back up his arms and raced them for finishing off his vegetable wrap. The sleeves won, as he quickly realized when he bit down on one. Uttering a squeak, he batted at the sleeve uselessly. "Baka Omi can't even win a food race with himself," he commented to himself, smiling sheepishly at his own antics. 

Right up until he remembered that cool, calm, stoic Aya-kun was with him. Coughing, he tried to go back to eating with some level of dignity to his actions. "Ano, this is really good, Aya-kun!" he spoke up, smiling. "Surprisingly good, for being... healthy." 

Omi's little game of pushing up his sleeves and trying to get in a bite before his sleeves fell over his hands once more was watched with mild amusement, the redhead eating his own vegetable wrap neatly. He led them over to a bench and sat down, draping his arm over the bench and glancing over the people milling around them before glancing back to Omi. As he ate the vegetable wrap not a single droplet of the dressing smeared on his lips, not a single small vegetable fell out of the back into his lap. He held it near his lips between his pinkie and thumb, pressing his index finger against the back to tip it up to not spill any contents. There was dignity, composure and precision to all his movements as was always the case, the redhead never to make a spectacle of himself or bring any embarrassment of any type on himself. But beyond his manner of being able to do damn near anything and make it look easy, there was a practiced ease possibly leading one to the conclusion that this was hardly his first time eating one of these, something that was hard to find elsewhere than an annual festival. 

The baka comment he made no comment on. The boy was amusing, but he wasn't inwardly laughing at him he was just... well he supposed 'cute' was a good word for it but endearing was one that he chose to mentally place on Omi. "I figured you may like it." A slight almost mischievous smirk upturned his lips before it faded once more, as was almost always the case. People would see tiny short-lived glimpses to something else, maybe even an actual human being behind that façade, and then the ice and indifference would return in full force. "It can be our little secret that you ate and enjoyed something that had more than one food group. So long as you do it more often?" Oh he was just sneaky. 

Wiping his fingers off on a small napkin that had been wrapped about the vegetable roll, he curled it into a tight ball and tossed it into a waste receptacle nearby without even looking to aim up his shot. With his hands perfectly cleaned, he brought them to once more fiddle with Omi's sleeves. It was an interesting shirt, one that he saw the boy wear often. Must have sentimental value. Oddly enough he could understand that, in a way. Thus the golden earring that always dangled from his ear, a reminder to himself of his life before Weiß, before killing, before Takatori intervened in his innocent though simple world. Most innocent things were simple, less to corrupt, which was one reason he didn't understand how Omi could be so youthfully naïve and innocent. He was far from simple but one of the more complex people he had met. 

After rolling the sleeves tightly up and pushing them past the boy's elbows to stay, he frowned faintly as he saw gooseflesh from the chill in the air bump up over Omi's slender arm. "Looks like they will have to stay like that. I cannot believe you did not bring a jacket, Omi..." A faint sigh of something akin to disappointment sounded in the air as Aya thought on that: their mission planner hadn't thought ahead to bring a jacket against the cold. "If you start to get cold, tell me. The last thing we need is for you getting influenza. When you do we can head back to Koneko..." Anticipating the whining cute pout that was sure to follow hearing those words, Aya let another smirk grace his lips. "Or if it's still early we can find something hot to drink." 

* 

Urking a tiny bit, Schuldich moved his hands easily through his tangle of hair, catching a few surface thoughts from the telekinetic. "Don't you even think it Nagi. Every strand **is** in its perfect order, even if that's only obvious to me. Mess up my hair and I give you yaoi dreams of Reiji x Brad for a **week**. Every night. No lie." Nodding mainly to himself and snickering softly before pushing that image **far** from his mind, he wandered out the door to the Space Room with the younger male. 

A light touch brushed over the boy's hair to straighten it before drawing away, Schuldich catching some of his deeper thoughts about his hatred at society. A tiny part of him reaching out to the boy to assure him that his thoughts on Schwarz were true... they did care, in their own ways. The reason he pestered Nagi about Tot was he just didn't like that girl. Something - lots of things, honestly - wasn't right in her mind. Nagi had been hurt by people time and time again... Schuldich just felt that if Nagi was so desperately wanting to cling to something for a touch of normalcy, he better choose someone a **bit** more normal than Tot. She was an idiot and honestly Schuldich thought Nagi to be the best of Schwarz in power and intelligence and deserved more than bunny girl who really didn't appreciate the telekinetic. Or rather she appreciated him like a young child appreciates a carnival clown, only there to make her feel better when she's down with tricks and sakura petal cyclones, but once she's cheery again she brushes him off until next time. Sending the boy a smirk that tinged into a faint smile, something possibly only Nagi ever saw and that was rare, Schuldich turned his head back and headed for the garage. "We're driving, duh. There is no way I'm going to walk there... through crowds... people may touch me. And if we walk there together, people may think we're a couple Nags." Tossing the boy a glance over his shoulder, he batted his lashes before ceasing his teasing for a bit longer. "As for being banned? Well... erm... Brad's not around to enforce that rule so I can just make the security guards at the gate forget they see me driving so they won't tell Braddums on me." Humming softly and innocently, he opened the door to the American's black BMW. "Nagikins... wanna learn to drive?"

Silence was the mark of Nagi's approach as he eyed the car, and considered the invitation. Schuldich asking him if he wanted to learn how to drive. There could be so many meanings or ploys behind that statement. Such as the German asking, yet declining to teach him until he was older, and thus teasing him of it. Or perhaps indeed teaching him, in return for some hard core evidence that someone other than himself had driven. Some nice fingerprints on the steering wheel would work, or some hint that Nagi had been there, rather than Schuldich. Then blame could be shoved to him, and then Crawford would ground him from the computer for a good month. Maybe two if he ran down some bystander (or would he cut it back by two weeks for removing two innocent-seeming puppets of a cruel society?). Still, even two weeks away from his computer... That would mark Schuldich on his To-Make-Into-Human-Dust list, and not even Tot, of all people, was dumb enough to want on that list. So, Nagi was faced with what he considered a truly odd situation. Schuldich truthfully making some sort of offer to teach him to drive. No ploys, no strings attached. 

And that was just scary. 

With a certain level of wariness, he took a step closer to the black vehicle, midnight eyes watching it and Schuldich with a air of caution in their depths. "Only if you swear not to harass me while I try," he replied, wording himself carefully. One always had to word a deal with the German carefully, since he was an expert at bending his agreements when he got bored and wanted something interesting to do. Yet, wording carefully or not, he realized that his statement had been a little too controlling for the poor telepath. "Not much, anyways." There... Schuldich would have permission to be a bit of his normal self; hopefully that would kill off the possible desires to really bend his agreement and mess with poor Nagi's mind. 

So, it was with that careful agreement, not even agreed to yet, that Nagi approached the driver's seat, intending to take it as his, for now. If Schuldich had a death wish about car crashes, the best way to achieve it was to put Nagi behind the wheel. Zero experience, and with the chance that he couldn't even reach the pedals of the American's car without serious modifications to the seat to make it possible. 

A bit later... 

"Brakes! Brakes! No, the other brakes!" Putting his hands up over his eyes but peaking through his fingers, Schuldich gave a very un-scary-Schwarz-telepath squeak as he saw Nagi run yet another stoplight because he hit the gas pedal instead of the decelerator. So far the little driving lesson hadn't been going **too** badly... for a kid with no experience driving. They'd had to completely scoot the seat forward for Nagi to reach the pedals to which Schuldich made no comment, knowing that the boy was sensitive about his size that was completely not his fault. The telepath knew the strains a high-leveled power could deliver to the human body thus he often used sleeping pills to get some rest and to shut the voices up. 

The advantages though to learning to drive with a telepath at your side was that they could conveniently make cops... look away. Very nice when Nagi was very much under the driving age and didn't have a license. Yea sure he could **easily** make one with his hacking skills or they could go to the DMV and convince the worker he needed one and was legal, but that was no fun. Also Schuldich was currently making everyone in the adjacent streets when they came to intersections think they had red lights no matter what they had so the two Schwarz members would be able to pass safely by, red or green. 

Finally successfully stopping at a light, Schuldich put his hands down from his face and glanced over at Nagi. "So... we having fun yet?" 

*

Finishing off his vegetable wrap, Omi tugged his sleeves down again, hiding his skin against the cold air again as he chewed the last bits of his snack. Something reminiscent of a soft pfft was given to the other as he attempted to clean up the slight mess of himself that eating had caused. The boy lacked the perfection that Aya held in most things, thus tended to be a little more chaotic in all he did. Not as badly as perhaps Ken, but certainly far less neatly as Aya. Thus, the little napkin that had come with his snack was put to good use, and when that failed to clean up the rest of it, a quick swipe at his mouth with his sleeve was in order. One that was completely swiftly, and followed by an air of innocence. After all, Omi would NEVER **dream** of using his clothing, of all things, to clean himself up. That was just... improper. Really. 

"Mooou, we're not heading back to Koneko until they kick us out of here!" 

There went the air of innocence, replaced by a determined, if bordering on pitiful, look. One that just screamed how much Omi had been looking forward to this and how much he didn't want any of it to end, much less prematurely in any sense. And that dragging him away would result in much moping and sniffling and general hurt-puppy actions that were designed to make the dragger feel just horrid from taking the draggee away from his single night of fun. Omi would do just about anything to stick around at the festival, including bribery in any way, shape, or form. Even if he had to promise to eat healthy for three days straight! He had just looked forward to it all THAT much. 

The offer of a hot drink made the youth perk up a bit, however, and another smile to grace his ever happy features. "Ne, Aya-kun, could we have... hot chocolate?" he asked hopefully, knowing that a hot sugar fix was JUST the thing that the other needed to melt that icy exterior and release more of that human he occasionally glimpsed shining through. A human that Omi was determined to see more of; Aya was not getting off easy with him. The boy was just about as stubborn as the elder assassin, and not ready to give up until a full-fledged smile was granted to him. 

Maybe another would have missed the childish sweeping at his lips, but not Fujimiya Aya-kun. Not the man who noticed every single aspect and detail of the lives around him to an obsessive and trained eye. He didn't mention it though or comment on it, only letting the mildly amused smirk stay on his lips. 

Dammit. He was not having fun. Mutter... this single night was going to ruin his completely aloof, insensitive prick image he could already tell. At least Omi was the only one around to see it. Looking down at the boy who had the most pitiful and hurt look for Aya even **suggesting **they leave any time soon no matter what the circumstances, he just shook his head to hide the tiny bit of laughter that threatened to emerge. The boy was such a brat. Such a little persistent pest. Annoying persistent overly cheerful brat. But Aya knew that the cheerfulness was just a cover. They all had their covers. Aya's was to get people the Hell away to not let anyone hurt him anymore than he'd already been hurt. Omi's was cheerful peppiness, giving himself a usefulness, to make people happy. And if he was happy, no one would worry about him. It was his job to worry about others. Youji's playboy image was to use sex to fill his own emptiness and see if he is still alive, to be casual about love to not ever feel the hurt it had once given him. Ken's mask was his entire self, to make up for his feeling of failure, failure to himself, his soccer teammates, his fans, a way to hide the guilt he feels. Aya really thought that maybe Omi was a masochist for continually subjecting himself to Aya's bland and silent company when the others found any reason possible to escape it. He couldn't blame them. The thought that maybe Omi actually did truthfully enjoy his company was something that never crossed his mind. 

Of all of Weiß... one could say that he 'enjoyed' Omi's company most of all. (After he'd gotten over that 'You're a Takatori! SHI-NE!' issue.) For the most part the redhead did not enjoy anyone's company, but rather tolerated it, but Omi was tolerated a bit more often than the rest. In a way they were both very similar, the dark and light side of the same coin. The two supposed leaders in Weiß, one in action and one in planning. Where Aya believed in everything he did with his full self, Omi allowed other's doubts to change his beliefs and thoughts. Both had lost their families in the past and were striving to regain it in some way, Omi his memory and Aya revenge for his family name. Both presenting false names and faces to the world, Omi because he could not remember his true name... Aya because he does not wish others to know his true name. At times does not wish to remember the man he used to be. 

Glancing down from the corner of his deep lilac eye, Aya gave what seemed to be a long suffering sigh. "Oh I suppose so Omi... But only because it is just getting to be perfect 'hot chocolate' weather and soon summer will be here and that time will have passed." Standing up from the bench, he glanced over his shoulder at the boy, a light spark of something akin to life in his eyes. "I may even chose it as one of my healthy foods for you tonight. If you put enough milk to balance the sugar... Now. I do not think we are going to see the whole festival by sitting here merely observing it." 

At the first hint of possibly missing any part of the festival, Omi was on his feet, alert and ready to go see more. Sapphire eyes looked up into the dark lilac, seeing that spark of life, a truly warm smile meeting the youth's lips as he recognized it for what it was. It may not have been the biggest step towards getting Aya to smile, but it WAS a step. Any kind of lightening in those forever-cold features was an accomplishment, and one Omi was going to see more of, even if he had to sugar-high it out of the other. After all, too much sugar in the body of one with little to no tolerance could do wonders for smiling. Omi knew this, having introduced Ken and Youji to his diet of sugar and take out when they'd first joined Weiß. Ken had adjusted after a little while, while Youji had declared sugar an evil thing after his first 'high' on it had kept him up for three nights straight. There were just some people who couldn't handle sugar, and Youji was one of them. But he had a feeling Aya would be able to withstand the worst parts of an unfamiliar high on the 'unhealthy' stuff known as chocolate and sugar. Perhaps even immune enough to just smile lightly, rather than laugh and grin, thus ruining his whole, hard-earned reputation of being cold and heartless. 

"How much is enough milk, Aya-kun?" he asked, rolling back on his heels as he moved his gaze to search out a vendor. "One drop? Two?" Of course, despite all his love of sugar, Omi wasn't quite THAT bad; he was joking for the moment, trying to fulfill his own challenge of finding that rare and true smile that was hidden somewhere in Aya. "Wait, no... maybe even three whole drops? Aya-kun, you wouldn't be THAT mean, would you? I mean, two drops of milk is bad enough, but three?" Wide eyes blinked in mock horror at the concept of so much milk entering his body in such a short period of time. 

Hopefully, this would work. If not, well, Omi would have other methods of cheering Aya up. It was his mask and purpose to make others smile, something he found worth in, and damn if Aya was going to make him fail that. Besides, of all people, Aya deserved the most to be able to smile again, after everything Omi knew of him going through in his life so far. And, with God as his witness, he'd make him smile! Wait, scratch that, no using a trademarked phrase like that. So, with sugar as his witness, Omi would make Aya smile! 

*

Nagi glanced over at Schuldich as the engine idled peacefully, the contraption of metal parts probably pleased to finally have a break from the boy's mad dash driving methods. A slight tilt of his head and soft shrug indicated his answer to the question before he looked back forward and floored the gas pedal while the light was still clearly red. Cutting through the rather light traffic, Nagi almost appeared to be smirking as he turned a corner quite abruptly, bothering not to check for oncoming vehicles. He knew that Schuldich valued his own life far too much, thus would be keeping the car safe from other cars; besides, any vehicle and driver that managed to pass through Schuldich's blocks would find themselves on the receiving end of a telekinetic blast of power that would pretty much crumple any car into a little metal ball. And knowing that Nagi knew such, one could almost think the boy kept running lights JUST to annoy the telepath. 

Revenge, after all, is SO sweet. 

Cutting another sharp corner, Nagi eyed the street he'd turned onto, spying their destination. Slamming his foot on the brakes, he protected himself from the sudden whiplash of the reverse momentum with a nice barrier of telekinesis, extending it to cover Schuldich. Barely. 

"That was enjoyable," he announced, putting the car into park and shutting it down. "Barely so, but enjoyable." Unclasping his seatbelt, he glanced at the telepath. "Ne?" 

Catching his breath, Schuldich panted from his earlier shrieking before glancing over to Nagi with his usual smirk on his lips. Better say this now while they're still in the privacy of the care before they go out where other ears can hear and he could break their 'deal' arranged earlier. Releasing a low sigh, the German just grinned as he pulled from his pocket a tin of cloves and a lighter, plucking one out to rest on his full lips. The lighter flared to life and glowed the end of the cigarette bright red before he slid the lighter back into his pocket, exhaling a stream of cherry scented smoke, thankfully away from the frail telekinetic. "Oh, _mein Gott_, Naaaaaaggggggi... what a rush!" Sighing in melodrama and giving what sounded to be another low moan of post-orgasmic bliss, he looked over at Nagi with lust hazed eyes and a lazy grin. "Was it good for you?" 

He then quickly got out of the car before any telekinetic fwaps could be headed his way, his bright green gaze looking over Brad's precious car for any scrapes or marks that may have gotten onto the perfect ebony paint job of the BMW. 

* 

As the two made their way through the carnival, stopping every once in awhile to glance at shoppes and vendors, trying to find a place selling hot chocolate as the night was growing steadily cooler, Aya watched Omi carefully. A faintly suspicious eyebrow raised as he watched the boy's bright glowing face. He could **see** that happy chipper little fluffy mind working behind those sapphire eyes. Sneaky sneaky little almost obnoxiously cheerful bishonen with a sharp intellect he could see working away, plotting ways to make the silent and composed assassin smile. Trying to poke holes in his seemingly perfect _'I hate everyone leave me the Hell alone *scowl*'_ façade. He liked his façade very much, thank you. 

Evil Omi. 

But even with all of his mental bitching and whining, if he disliked being around the boy so much, he would just walk on back to Koneko. If he didn't want to do something, truuuly didn't want to do something, no amount of sniffling and pouting and bright innocent eyeing could make him do it. 

"Enough milk to properly combat the sugar contest of chocolate milk is..." he paused almost dramatically for a moment, not noticing the hint of a smile that shone in his eyes though never curving his lips. The shining warmth of the man behind the biting ice exterior, brought out at least a tiny bit from Omi's exuberance and the memories of a happy life before Weiß that went hand in hand with this carnival. "Four drops. No more, no less." 

Soft laughter filtered from Omi's lips as he hastily raised a hand to cover his mouth, trying to remain polite while listening to Aya and his attempts at bits of dramatic humor. They were cute, really, and a nice change to hear coming from the ruby-haired male, after all the sour and bitter words that Omi knew he'd said, even since joining Weiß. And, well, smile or not, he was considering the current evening a success for lightening the other male's mood. Of course, a smile would just top it off, but he figured he might manage with seeing that brightening of violet eyes and soft tones of speech that were already apparent. After all, any brightening change in Aya's stature and actions was a good thing; nigh impossible, according to Youji, but good nonetheless. 

"Mou, Aya-kun, if you're going to be THAT mean and demanding, well..." Releasing a similarly overdone sigh, Omi imitated a slouching, pathetically sad posture, though the half hidden smile on his lips ruined the effect. "I guess I'll hafta agree. Demo, with all that milk, it HAS to be a healthy food choice... That's too much calcium in it to be something I picked. A whole two drops more than my weekly intake!" 

Raising a hand to his forehead in mock distress, he made a few dramatic stumbles to help rescue his Pathetic Omi image. "Whatever will I do, Aya-kun? I'll be... h-h-h-healthy!" Swooning with equal melodrama, he didn't notice the rock he was to trip over until it was too late. Thus, it was with a startled squeak that Omi went down, giggles already erupting from him as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the night sky. Smiling warmly, he let a few more bits of laughter escape him. 

"Mah, I've fallen over..." 

* 

Twitch. 

Somehow, the German just kept doing it, pushing his luck to the edge, and barely evading a good smack for it. Though this time, the telepath's only saving grace was that he had exited the vehicle too quickly for Nagi to get a good fwap in on his fiery haired head. However, that far from excused said telepath from suddenly being a target for revenge. And with such revenge in mind, Nagi exited the vehicle, closing the door firmly behind him and watching Schuldich carefully. The telepath was currently leaning over the hood, rubbing off a bit of a dirt smudge with his hand, to help hide their little excursion into the real world. Tilting his head, Nagi concentrated for a moment, and a precise four seconds later, the area where Schuldich was currently working on had depressed into a dent. Barely noticeable, but there; and with little doubt that Crawford would notice it, seeing as the American was a little obsessive about the perfect surfaces of his car. 

"Look at what you did, Schuldich," he commented, making a general gesture to the dent. "Crawford is going to have your head for damaging his car." Allowing a faint smirk to curve his lips for a moment, the teen shrugged and headed for the stairs. "Let's go, or do you plan to miss the festival and hoards of people to pester within?" 

TWITCH! 

Schuldich barely repressed a shriek when he watched the metal of the car hood dent in. Oh it was a tiny little wimpy dent, most wouldn't notice it, but it was on Brad Crawford's car. Mr. Anal Retentive. It could have been a crater big enough to fit all of Tokyo in it, or a miniscule dent the size of an ant's footprint. It wouldn't matter. Not to Brad. 

Settling his very annoyed glowing emerald gaze on the boy, his mind lashed out. But not to Nagi. No, he was able to keep himself in check enough to know not to strike at the boy. A) He knew he couldn't kill him. Not unless he had a death wish. Brad was sexy when he was shooting people down with that gun of his but not if he had it aimed at his pretty German head. B) He knew he couldn't hurt him. Not unless he had another death wish. Not unless he wanted Nagi to be testing out putting dents in **him**. His telepathy swept through the carnival for a nicely weak person and latched onto their mind, releasing echoes of screams and murmurs and whispers reverberating into their mind. Oh they'd live. But their happy little day at the carnival was now ruined by the massive migraine he'd given them. 

Sighing softly he brushed off his hands, straightening up from where he'd been leaning on the car. That would have to do for now. When he got upset... people got hurt. If he couldn't hurt the one who'd pissed him off, some random innocent person merrily going about their day would do. "Shall we Nags? My play toys await." 

* 


	4. Cruel Justice * Part Three

"Omi!" Ignoring the few people gazing at the two who were just odd together, the hyper child and the too serious redhead, Aya made his way the few steps to the fallen boy. Glancing down at him, he shook his head and sank down to one knee, ignoring the soil brushing off on the knee of his black slacks as he half-kneeled. Offering out his hand to help the boy up, he just shook his head softly at the boy. "I thought Ken was the klutz, Tsukiyono," he chided in a faint teasing tone, a true smile breaking through his blank and serious façade to curve his lips. Showing that what some often teased the male about was true. 

He had a beautiful smile indeed. Nor had he sold it, nor would it kill him to smile. In fact. He had a dimple in his right cheek.

Taking the offered hand, Omi pulled himself to his feet again, brushing dirt off of his clothing and form. Sapphire eyes brightened as he caught the look on Aya's face, so rare, so unique. Not of surprise, or disgust, or sadness, but a true, happy smile. He'd done it! He'd succeeded in freeing up that soul-lightening motion of a simple smile. That was, indeed, and as forecasted, the perfect topping to a perfect festival. 

Tilting his head and observing Aya for a moment, the youth smiled in return, holding his hands behind himself and leaning forward as he rocked back on his heels, miraculously keeping his balance in his actions. "Daijoubu, Aya-kun," he said, his voice bright. "Ken-kun just rubs off on me sometimes... But it passes soon. Ano, how about that hot chocolate, ne? It might help make the clumsiness retreat faster!" A prompt nod accompanied the words as the boy turned on his heel and started looking for an appropriate stand. 

However, for a moment, he glanced back, sapphire eyes sparkling as he met violet ones. "Aya-kun, you have a very pretty smile," he said softly, the words nearly lost in the crowd. "You should smile more often, it suits you." Another gentle tilt of his head accompanied the serious words coming from the youth, truth being clear and apparent in his tones. The genki light in his gaze seemed to fade momentarily as he allowed the serious moment to sink in even deeper. "Ano, what is it that took your beautiful smile away, Aya-kun? Was it what happened to your sister?" 

*

The slight telekinetic was already heading up the stairs at Schuldich's inquiry, glancing back and arching a brow at the telepath. "All your play toys now? Does that make the world your toybox, Schuldich?" he asked in turn, taking each step with ease, though not without effort. Being as small as he was, and with the kind of taxing ability that telekinesis was on the boy, Nagi tended to have difficulty with any kind of physical exertion, and stairs easily topped that list. At least there stood the promise of candied apples waiting for him at the top, and such was the only true thing that propelled him onwards. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, midnight eyes took in the festival that awaited them both, a slight shudder passing through Nagi's form. People, and in mass quantity. It was like a nightmare to him, to be around that many people. Though he did not feel any direct effects from others, such as the voices that Schuldich forever heard in his own mind due to telepathy, Nagi had a certain discomfort about being around anything remotely human. He'd been beaten, picked on, and tormented enough as a child to hate all of society endlessly. And facing a hoard of the people of said society was almost like a nightmare. 

Through his own determination, however, Nagi remained calm, outwardly showing no further signs of discomfort as he awaited Schuldich. "Which toy will be first, I wonder..." Midnight eyes continued to search the crowd as the youth debated who, perhaps, the telepath would pick on first. And hopefully after he'd purchased the candy apples! 

"Oh now Naggles I thought you to be a lot smarter than to just ask that now. Didn't you know?" Humming softly, Schuldich headed up the stairs to the festival after Nagi, keeping his pace slow and lazy to not pass the boy up, which could be considered teasing to his dislike of physical exertion or short legs. As they reached the top he let his own emerald gaze sweep over the people, a slender finger reaching up to tap his lip, running his fingernail over the soft curve of his mouth as he contemplated. Already he could hear the meaningless chatter blabbering away in his mind, breaking through his mental shields. 

Closing his spring leaf green gaze, he was 'kind' enough to implant suggestions in the minds close by that no matter **how** hot the fire haired man was, don't approach him. And most of the crowd's eyes seemed to just skim over the telekinetic, not even seeming to notice him. Schuldich knew that Nagi disliked strangers being near him, leaving him open to attack if they took him by surprise and they could strike a blow to his frail body before he could send them flying headfirst into a brick wall. Real or compressed "brick wall" of air, either did the trick. And as for the making the people not notice the boy, he also knew that Nagi disliked stares, mild paranoia thinking everyone was looking at the "freak" with the large head and melancholy eyes. Nagi was actually a very lovely bishonen with haunting eyes and creamy skin but Schuldich hit on him far too often for the Japanese youth to take his appreciation of his looks seriously. Whatever. 

"I barely can tell my mind from theirs... The only difference between me and them is I know who is the puppeteer, and they do not." A smirk touched on his lips as he continued looking, flipping through the minds as most would a stack of cards, searching for a comfy weak one to play with for a bit. The earlier plan to buy Nagi two candy apples had been momentarily forgotten in the swirl of thoughts, but Schuldich was quickly reminded of it. As he searched he let a telepathic feeler lay on the edge of Nagi's mind, finding the familiar and relatively calm thoughts comforting, lacking the hurried rush and stupid cheerfulness of all these people. It was a light touch but enough to help him not forget who he was in the mad rush of thoughts in the congested area. . 

"Nani? Oh, ja ja, let's go get your apples, Munchkin," he said and set off with the boy moments after Nagi had thought about the earlier offer. He didn't even the pondering on when Schuldich would buy him apples had been a thought, not a vocalized comment. If asked he would just shrug lightly and respond with 'To me it's all the same except thoughts often aren't lies like spoken words'. Telepaths... 

* 

The smile faltered and fell as Omi posed the question, Aya stopping his steps and just blinking in surprise for a few moments. Someone... had dared ask about his past... But it was the only one who knew anything his sister and his past, his reasons for becoming an assassin to any degree. Omi's question was innocent, he knew the boy enough to know he wouldn't intentionally ask something to harm another, but the question did bring a shock of hurt from the past memories racing through him. Thoughts of Aya-chan were fresh on his mind from the carnival and his endlessly cheerful companion. 

"Aa..." he said after a few moments, his usual mask slipping back into place but there was a faint bit of wistful melancholy and hurt echoing in his voice. "It may be hard for some to understand or one may disagree with my reasons..." His violet eyes looked away into the swirl of people, not wanting to stare into Omi's bright blue eyes, so similar to a pair of cobalt blue eyes he longed to see open every day but it had yet to come. "I lost, or simply gave up, my ability to smile the day **he **took... hers away." 

There was a silence that followed Aya's words, as though a moment of remembrance for those who had been lost to neither death nor life had been called. And for that moment, Omi observed his friend carefully, his own bright smile seeming to fade into more serious, and concerned, features. Well, he'd had Aya happy for a moment, then opened his big, so-called genki mouth and said something. Still, he'd had him happy, and now, well, he seemed to have him talking. And it seemed the best course to perhaps persuade the redhead to keep talking, considering the hurt that showed through the other's mask. It was always better to deal with hurt, rather than letting it fester and further injure. 

"No one loses their ability to smile, Aya-kun," he said softly, turning to face the assassin completely. "Or even willingly gives it up. You just proved that by smiling, ne?" Tilting his head, he searched those pale features and those violet eyes, which were refusing to meet his own sapphire tones. "Daijoubu, she'll get her smile back, always believe in that." Taking a step closer to Aya, the youth tried to twist enough to meet those deep purple irises once more. "And think how little that smile will show if she finds out that you've been scowling this whole time. I don't think she'd be happy to hear you're miserable, Aya-kun, and that you seem to make yourself miserable on purpose. Ne?" 

* 

There was no twitch, for once, in the form of the young telekinetic as Schuldich touched his mind, Nagi knowing full well that the telepath sometimes, and more often than not, had trouble dealing with crowds, and the endless voices within. Humans, after all, had no respect for those who had the gift, and near curse, of hearing their thoughts. A chaotic mess was the human brain, alight with words and thoughts, and even endless emotions that drove empaths to insanity; and when one put hundreds of those minds in one place, it could be easily overwhelming. At least Schuldich could rest in the calmness that his mind seemed to present to the German. After all, it would be pointless and useless to make the telepath brave all the voices alone, when they could easily drive him insane, something that could prove easy enough, since Schuldich seemed to border on the edge of sanity even with all the support that he seemed to find and receive. 

Trailing the German, Nagi allowed his eyes to wander over the crowds, seeing no faces he recognized, hearing no voices he knew. Then again, running into those he knew on the streets wasn't exactly likely, considering how few people he knew, and how many less within that which he remotely liked. Festivals and people... Two things that Schwarz generally wanted to destroy. Well, that was their intended purpose at the moment anyways, to make the night as miserable as possible for as many as possible. For everyone present, if possible. That would be pleasant, for himself and Schuldich at least. 

But first, candy apples. Spying a vendor, Nagi did what was most possibly the oddest thing he could and grabbed Schuldich by the elbow, already changing his direction towards the little stall. If he was going to put up with a festival, he was having his treat as soon as possible. "Make good on your deal, ne?" he said simply to the telepath as he attempted to drag him, knowing full well that all of his physical strength would never budge the German if said German didn't want to be budged. 

Schuldich let himself be tugged along for a moment before finally pulling himself from the thoughts of a young couple nearby, a faint smirk on his lips. He'd been able to dig around in the male's mind for a minute, finding not much of interest except a few thoughts of 'wow, **she's** pretty'. Thoughts which weren't directed at his female companion at his side. Humming a soft tune, Schuldich had brought all of those thoughts to the front to override any sappy lingering thoughts of who he was indeed here with, and the male was now very blatantly checking out every single girl that walked past. And vocalizing his admiring thoughts about their bodies and faces. Loudly. 

With a happy sigh on his lips, the telepath extracted himself from the man's mind just before the girl finally decked her most-likely-now-exboyfriend. He did so love ruining insipid young love. If he could get some sickening couple cuddling on the Ferris wheel to have a screaming fight and have one throw the other from the Ferris wheel car as they reached the very top point of the circle, it would be a happy day. He doubted that the festival would come next year if that happened, so it would be a happy thing. 

Within a few minutes Nagi had his two promised candy apples and Schuldich was still snickering softly in sadistic delight. His tall lean form was sprawled out on a bench leaving Nagi room to sit without behaving his lap be the German's head or feet rest, his emerald eyes closed as he hunted through minds. 

"Sap... suicidal... twit... people like her shouldn't be allowed out of the house... I should kill her and put her out of my misery... more hentai than I am..." That mind was lurked in for a moment before Schuldich got bored and moved on. "Can't even spell 'thought'... _scheiße(3*)_. This is boring." Schuldich sighed and let his eyes open slowly, tapping his fingers on his chest with a light sigh. Tonight was going to be dreadfully boring and disappointing if he couldn't find anyone worth his time to spend time playing with. "Enjoying your apples?" he inquired to the telekinetic with him before closing his eyes once more, continuing to search through minds. 

* 

Meeting Omi's eyes unwillingly Aya just sighed softly and looked away once more only this time his violet eyes slid shut to avoid those prying and imploring sapphire jewels. "I am not miserable. I just do not live the life I once did." Parting his lips in a silent exhale of breath, he was relieved when they finally reached the vendor. Yen was handed over and soon Aya grasped two small cups of hot chocolate, a few marshmallows in with Omi's "milk-saturated" drink. 

How was he to explain that he used to be somewhat like Omi, optimistic and cheerful with smiles to everyone, but he'd been dreadfully shy and only able to open up to his family especially his sister? When his parents had been ripped cruelly away, the last time the male had seen them had been when they were lying dead, and his beloved sister was struck down and they were both left for dead... it had ripped his world apart and left him alone and scared. Frightened like a child he suddenly felt like, feeling as if there was nothing he could do to hold together the traces of life he had left. It was only by constructing this mask he wore that he was able to do what he knew he had to... to keep himself away from most so he couldn't be hurt and alone again. It was hard to be abandoned when you were already alone. It was hard for everything to be ripped away when you had almost nothing left. Fujimiya Ran could not kill. He was a child, scared and vulnerable in the harsh world, needing people to cling to for reassurance. Fujimiya Aya-kun... could. And did, without fear or remorse. He was as hard as his blade, sharp and blunt and unforgiving, uncaring. Fujimiya Ran could not live again until the proper Aya was here to take back her name. Fujimiya Ran had died the day his family was ripped away and Fujimiya Aya-chan was sent into a suspended reality. And when Fujimiya Aya-chan returned fully to the waking world and reality, her beloved brother could return. Even now with Weiß's duties being over, he just... couldn't. He couldn't return to his happy life until his sibling could as well. 

* 

A light gasp passed over Schuldich's lips before he squealed happily, his eyes hazy as he slid them open. "Ooooooooh Naggles... you'll never guess who I just found." A low purr sounded in the back of his throat as he stayed on the edges of Omi and Aya's minds to not be detected, his tongue licking his lips as he could feel the Weiß pair's confusion and mild frustration amidst the happy carnival goers. Their minds were a bit more interesting to play with and the temptation was... too much to resist. 

Pausing in his consumption of one of his candy apples, Nagi glanced to the side at the telepath, one brow raising in question as to who it was the Schuldich had found. Not that he was interested, or even cared for that matter. Really. He had his candy apples, wasn't that what mattered? Of course. Regardless of the fact that being able to ruin the nights of a few more people could be interesting and truly complete their little excursion into the real world. Maybe even mark it as a nice occasion in Nagi's memory, which would certainly stand out amidst the mess of bitter situations that the rest of his life was. 

"If you say Brad, you had better hope that he's not seen his car yet," he commented, momentarily shifting half of his attention back to the food in his hand. Or half of that food; he was holding only one apple at the moment, keeping the other in the air with his telekinesis to avoid the mess of balancing too much food with too small hands. Of course, anyone who noticed the floating miracle candy became promptly distracted by a pebble or twig flying past their heads, or into them, if they refused to give up looking at the boy and his personal treats. Unlike Schuldich, he couldn't influence thoughts directly, however, Nagi did, at least, have a method of influencing them, with little unspoken warnings and threats, or, rather, promises. 

*

"Miserable, Aya-kun." 

The returned comment came with a firm nod from the youth, who'd taken another step closer in an attempt to get Aya to acknowledge him and meet his gaze, so that they could hold a proper conversation, rather than the evasive one. Unfortunately, Omi had a stubborn and curious streak, and one that too often got him into trouble. And it was equal misfortune that he had just allowed that streak to take precedence in his search to make Aya smile, or find out why he didn't smile. "Ano, you don't live the same life, that's true, demo, is that a reason to be so sad, Aya-kun? Hai, lots of bad stuff happen, demo, you can't let it drag you down." 

Sighing, Omi glanced over to the hot chocolate in Aya's hands, reaching out to take his own. "I mean, I don't live the life I used to, ne? Demo, I manage and still smile." Allowing a soft shrug, he stared into the hot chocolate for a moment, watching the marshmallow in it bob a bit in the sugary mix. 

* 

"Better, my evil Chibi, so much better... And you better fix that dent! I'm behaving myself!" A slow grin spread over Schuldich's lips after his faint outburst to the telekinetic and he tilted his head back to glance at the boy, eyes clouded in near delirious sadistic pleasure at his find. Thoughts of little games to play with the two danced in his head, making him purr louder like a content kitten. What a place to run into their adversaries... where they would not be suspected to be and there were enough people around for them to stay out of sight from the kittens. With all the noise and bustle of the festival, the two Weiß assassins wouldn't notice tiny and well trained brushed over their subconscious to bring out memories and twist them to more... interesting proportions. 

His lips stayed in his happy grin for a moment before parting to quietly whisper the word 'Weiß' to Nagi, the grin staying on his lips. It was a smile that all of Schwarz knew and knew well and one that if they ever had directed at them... hit the telepath upside the head to get him back to his senses before he tried to fuck with and play his games with his teammates. It was a grin promising pain and more pain, wicked delight for him alone. The smile that would be on his lips as he twisted a person's mind so hard they wouldn't even know their own reality from what he told them to think. If they were... lucky, he would allow them to later remember the full truth without Schuldich-influence. If not... as was the usual... well. They'd find new lives and new loved ones after chasing away all their old ones for some... unknown reasons. 

Now, to see what things of interest he'd found. There was the baby of Weiß, little Bombay. Mm, kidnapping him from the balcony of that party where he'd been necking with that insipid little Takatori girl had been fun. Hauling him off to be beaten by his own newfound brother had been even more delicious. Feeling a person's pain brought on by a supposed loved one... it was nearly better than sex. It was the only time he could truly stand a person's pain. There was Omi, a delightful possibility. One of his favorite people to mindfuck. A boy so caught up in his own delusions of being one of the 'good ones' protecting the innocence of the age when really those innocent ones he protects would spit in his face and place him no better than those he fights. A boy who was 'taken' from his own home and 'saved' by a man who was, in actuality, his own father, and then raised to be a murderer. But oh! That little tidbit wasn't widely known about the freaky Takatori family tree now was it. That was just something Schuldich found interesting while poking about Reiji's mind once. A very interesting mind to play in, to say the least. 

Ah, and then there was the 'leader' of Weiß but it could be debated that either Omi or Aya were leader. Who really fucking cared. Aya was the unbreakable one, the porcelain statue with so little emotion most times one really had to wonder if he was human or not. A man like fire and ice, only arctic bitter ice shown to the world with a fire or passion and anger inside, only that heat driving him on. But Schuldich knew that wasn't the full deal. There was some other personality so deeply hidden, the telepath who specialized in mind probing couldn't quite get to it. Aya's surface thoughts were all that were readily available to him. His other thoughts were so buried beneath anger and pent up rage desiring vengeance it hurt to lurk further, Schuldich possibly being victim to losing himself and going into a Fujimiya Aya style SHI NE fit. 

Which would just be scary. 

But... anyway. A man so out for revenge once against Takatori Reiji... despising every Takatori and swearing to kill them all... out at a festival with the sole remaining Takatori. 

Seems like Schuldich had found his fun target for the evening. 

Mm, time to see what he had to work with... The surface thoughts he was having currently were interesting, his sister and what happened to her, thoughts of a happy life when it would return... 

*

Handing the hot chocolate over to Omi, Aya turned as if to go but just moved a few feet over to a vacated bench under a tree so they could at least speak on this in private since the boy was so adamant about it. Sitting down, the redhead just lifted his eyes to meet Omi's for a moment, letting the hot cup warm his cool hands. His thoughts wandered though on the boy's comments, the katana expert never noticing the other touch in his mind that was stirring thoughts to mind even more than they were doing so on his own. Thoughts of his happy life before he ever knew the name Takatori, thoughts of the last time he was at this festival, his sister... his angel, his light, everything good in the world personified, struck down... 

He could see her so well in his mind, looking exactly as she had years ago. Vivacious and bright, always a smile on her lips and laughter in her voice. Utterly adoring of the handsome redhead she called oniichan. He used to never believe that anyone deserved for life to be taken from them as it had from her, leaving her in a limbo, neither living nor enjoying the perfection of Heaven which was where she would most certainly go, when God wished for the return of one of His angels. 

__

~Oniichan...~ She still sounded exactly the same... at times he wondered how she would sound when she awoke. The voice he heard in his mind was one from two years ago when she was sixteen years old. The last time he had heard her voice, at this festival years ago... when she discovered their parents dead... when she said his name before the car struck her down... 

Leaning back against the bench, Aya sighed, the memories plaguing him as they always did. It was nothing new, now they were fresher and more clear. At times he kept expecting to be able to look over to one of the jewelry shoppes and see her, with her hands steepled under her chin and batting her long lashes, just wanting to stay a few moments more, just buy a few more things. Of course they had... he never had been able to deny her a thing. 

__

~I'm so alone, oniichan... it's so dark. Where are you... has everyone left? Has everyone left me?~ His eyes widened and he shook his head lightly, his sister's thoughts coming through clearly in her bell tones. It was all he could hear... he sometimes wondered what she thought while in her coma. Not if she thought. What. He refused to believe that some of the doctors said her mind was gone, Aya was gone. She wasn't. 

__

~I miss you, oniichan. I miss kaasan and tousan... Who did this... Who took them from us. Who took us apart? They won't... hurt us again will they? They won't take away our happy family, the little we have left.~ Her voice in his mind broke for a moment in sweet tears and the male froze, desperately not wanting to lose the girl's voice. It was an odd comfort to him. Even with all his memories, her voice was never this clear, never sounding this much as it truly did. _~They can never understand... None of them, not a single person related to them. They're all the same... they can never understand what we lost... Oniichan... I'm so lonely... I need you, and you alone nii. Please don't ever leave me, please don't let anyone take you from me. Do whatever it takes to return to me... nii. Ran.~ _

Her voice started to fade and Aya flinched, glancing down at the boy at his side still, looking at him with imploring eyes. She was right... he could never understand. No one could understand their happy life, which was taken from them. "What do you know..." he spoke in a hissed voice, his eyes narrowing at the young boy he knew to truly be the last remaining Takatori. "Are your memories of your old life happy ones? Do you wish to return to that life as your true self? If you ever do... you will truly know the misery you speak of, Takatori Mamoru. Continue harping on my happy life that was lost as if you could truly understand, a life that was lost because of your blood, and I will give you every reason to lose that smile of yours." 

The curiosity and light in those sapphire eyes flickered as Aya's sudden change in words and tone sunk into the boy's mind, the biting voice and dark look both surprising and hurting Omi in one cruel stride. The gentle light and happy voices of the festival were suddenly lost in those words, every hopeful and soul-lifting emotion forming a sudden retreat against the onslaught of the least expected kind, and from the least expected person. Trembling fingers lost their grip on the warm cup of hot liquid, sending it to strike the ground, hot chocolate flaring up from the impact and splashing his unprotected leg. A low yelp cut through his otherwise silent lips, that leg immediately drawn up, arms curling around it protectively, hiding it from another potential strike. Yet, the whole time, those sapphire eyes didn't turn from Aya's violet ones. Hurt confusion mirroring in one pair, cold anger and lingering pain in the other. 

"Ano... What are you talking about, Aya-kun?" he asked softly, unable to keep the hurt from his voice or from surfacing tears along the edges of his lashes. Forever the most innocent and seemingly unprotected of Weiß, Omi was never prepared for any kind of verbal strike, to the point where even targets had been able to dissuade him into confusion with their twisted words. The boy took far too much at face value, and with his open habits, each attack against him struck right to his core, few defenses lingering to protect him from emotional hurts and longing. And those meager defenses had just been crushed by the words of the older assassin, unexpected and unwanted messages carried along with it. Accusations, questions he did not want to answer, but perhaps the most painful part of it all was the speaking of a name that he had once gone by, and had been told he was no longer. A name that Aya himself had told the teen he was no longer a part or relation to. And one that Aya had just called him, with every bit of venomous anger that he'd ever used in referring to a Takatori name since Omi had first heard the man say it. 

Hugging his one leg closer to himself, Omi finally managed to draw his eyes from the other's, turning the darkening sapphire colors towards the ground as the recent turn in events echoed in his confused mind. "Why did you call me that, Aya-kun? I'm not that... You said I'm not that person anymore! I was, once... And I was happy... Once, Aya-kun. Demo, I lost all that too, now I can't even remember it. How can you say I can't understand, Aya-kun? I... I had a family once too... Brothers, a sister, parents, even and uncle... All that was lost... I know what it feels like, but what good does it do to dwell on that, Aya-kun..." 

Turning his head to again look to who he had truly though was his friend, Omi made no move to brush away the tear that fell, it being to easy to spill the salty droplets when such words were spoken. The questions and accusations still hung in his mind, beginning to be accompanied by what little of his old life he could remember, and what pain it all carried. Emotionally and physically. Already he could feel the headache that plagued him whenever his past life came up, stressing his body and emotions with its physical pain as his mind slaved to dig out that which he'd spent years burying. And it was growing worse as he tried, and failed, to answer that which had been presented to him, or defend that of which he had been accused. 

Curling himself tighter, as though to defend against other words, he continued to stare at Aya, mentally flailing in his attempts to find a way to respond. A soft trembling overtook his form as no answers became prevalent, his own mind telling him that his silence only proved Aya's words to be truthful. That his inability to answer the accusations only made him guilty of it all in the end. "I'm not him... Aya-kun, you said I wasn't. I'm Tsukiyono Omi..." Another stray tear fell from his eye as he searched the other's face for an answer that was not hate. "Aren't I?" 

As the hurt and pain from his hurts became obvious in the boy's expressive face streaked with soft tears, Aya's hardened face flinched for a moment, softening in the affection he did have for the boy but only showed in odd but Aya-kun-esh ways surfacing past the Takatori-hatred. As he stared at the boy crying he started to lift a hand to brush away the salty tears, his eyes clear but confusion lighting in them as he looked at the youngest Weiß member as if he wasn't sure what had been said... or rather knew but wasn't sure why he had heard his own tones voice it. "Gomen, Omi..." he spoke softly, his words lacking the hard biting ice from earlier. 

Across the festival grounds Schuldich grit his teeth as he felt the man start to slip through his control, a headache already starting to pulse in his temple from being so deeply rooted in another's mind. Deeply rooted in a mind and stirring up feelings of hatred and thoughts of dislike. It was straining to say the least but the after effects would be well worth it. So long as he could get drunk later this evening and wash away the pain... maybe find some great bed to have a tumble him as well, lose himself in the silence that mind blowing sex provided even if only after the moment of climax. A string of German curses fell from his lips, not expecting this. The fact that he had made little Bombay cry was a victory he took such utter delight in, but the sympathy and regret for hurting the boy it was stirring in Aya's mind was... interesting and annoying. Interesting to know he actually did care for the boy... that could be used later... but annoying because his true feelings were combating the old thoughts that Schuldich was tendering and bringing to full flame once more. 

Slipping into Aya's mind more, he was actually somewhat disappointed by what he found. The man was stubborn, insanely so, but his mind was relatively dull and with the hatred he carried around like baggage, it just hurt to be in his mind. But the hurt he was delivering to Omi through Aya... more than made up for it. There wasn't much of real interest... he had to wonder why the man hadn't killed himself already. There was the Takatori hatred that was coming to be such good use as of now, utter adoration of his sister who was lying in some hospital somewhere, a feeling of low self worth for what he did, the man thinking he was not worthy of affection from anyone. And that was about it. Also some sappy affection and appreciation for the others of Weiß he didn't know how to communicate or if he should. Really pretty boring, really. 

With a careful telepathic finger he sifted through the current thoughts Aya was having, trying to whisk away the feelings of compassion for the sapphire eyed boy. Once more using the trick of his beloved sister's voice speaking up in his mind, near begging him to only care for her, to not forget her. No one else in the world mattered... While her sickening sweet tones were piping up, he continued digging through the man's psyche, bringing his old aggressions about the Takatori family to full front. Schuldich was an experienced mind digger. He specialized in taking a single urge or impulse a person had and could make them act on that and that alone. While one time he was bored he had a man who always admired cars while driving by lots blow his life savings on nothing but cars. Car after car after car after car... While the man's usual admiration of the expensive convertibles and sports cars had just been an impulse but not something he'd truly ever buy because of careful budgeting, Schuldich had strengthened that impulsive desire and lowered his inhibitions and economical senses by bringing his thoughts of **needing** that car to the front of his mind, pushing all other thoughts to the back. They didn't matter. Nothing else mattered but finally owning all those cars he'd admired for so long. It was amusing to say the least. He'd done a similar thing with a single mother of two on a fixed budget who had a great love of jewelry, diamonds, but refused to splurge... he just enhanced her 'oh, what's just one tennis bracelet' thoughts. The telepath did have a great love of ruining people with their own greed. 

Continuing to dig in the redhead's mind he finally pushed away the dull sweet feelings, bringing back those wonderful thoughts of aggression towards the boy Aya had had so long ago when he first found out about Omi being a Takatori. The thoughts were still there... fading and buried but there. Sure that he once again had control over the stubborn bitch, he sent his little pissy puppet back to ruin some more of Omi's life. 

Almost as soon as it had happened, the redhead's eyes usual clear and observant plum gaze glazed over as Schuldich reasserted control over the male. His hand stopped its track towards Omi's cheek to brush away the tears, dropping back to his leg to curl his fingers tightly into his palm before finally getting up to his feet. A look of pure hatred and disdain was sent Omi's way as he curled up on the bench before Aya leaned down to him. "I am sorry... Sorry I ever felt there was any worth in you. There's not. You say you were happy then? Hm? There is a difference between us. You forgot your old life, I did not. You should have left those memories buried, Mamoru. You say you're not him but Tsukiyono Omi? Who is Omi really? Omi is nothing beyond Weiß and Weiß's duties are over. You are nothing, nothing but the final shadow of a retched family line." Leaning down, he put his lips close to the boy's ear to speak to him, his words soft in his usual quiet tones but biting, tones he only used to targets before delivering a death blow to dirty his blade with their blood. "If I ever see you again... I will kill you as you have killed so many. As you killed your own blood family. As I should have when I first realized what you are. You're nothing but a killer, Omi. Omi is a murderer, Mamoru... and had you stayed with that family you would have been just the same as Hirofumi, Masafumi, and Reiji. Vile... disgusting... and dead. Unlike you I have a different life to look forward to. To go back to. A life without you three. I'm already moving on. I don't need any of you." 

And with that he straightened back up to his full height and turned to leave the festival. "I shouldn't have come tonight. The last time I came to this festival a Takatori ruined my life. I won't have it happen again. Sayonara." 

__

(3*) scheiße - shit


	5. Cruel Justice * Part Four

For that disconcerted moment, when Aya had paused, started to say a soft, what could have been true apology, Omi had nearly froze, faint hope flickering that maybe Aya hadn't meant what he had said before, about his family and his past. Zaffer toned irises had even brightened a soft touch, though the tears did not disappear from their edges, the hurt too much to banish with a single thought. However, that soft light and hope lay crushed again as those words were continued in their harsh manner, with more questions, and warnings that could not be ignored. 

Gathering himself enough to be at least able to swallow, Omi did so, pushing down the fear that was starting to rise. The fear for the threat just issued, the fear for this Aya-kun and if what was speaking to him had truly been the man he'd worked alongside for so long now, and even a faint fear and concern for Aya, as some part of his mind worried about what had forced the sudden change in his friend's manner. A fear and concern he dared not air, knowing too well, from the tone of the words spoken, that Aya would not listen calmly to such a thing. Omi's own assumption was that Aya would react quite poorly to such a thing, with another threat, or mayhaps even a follow-through of the first one. Besides, the youth was also in little much of a state to be able to talk much at all, his form trembling and voice abandoning him so often under the onslaught of words. 

Was he truly so little and meaning so little? Aya was right, Weiß was disbanding, their purpose said to be completed. Weiß was everything he'd ever known since becoming who he was. Omi. Did that truly mean that Omi would disappear once Weiß did? Such a thought made a muted cry escape the boy's throat as another tear streaked down his face, this truth being shown too him too much to even want to face down and defy. If Omi was dying with Weiß, all that left was... Mamoru, someone he didn't want to be, yet was being called and told that was all he COULD be. Was that true? 

Unfortunately, in his current state, all signs pointed to yes. 

"Aya-kun, onegai, don't leave like this..." he whispered pleadingly, more crystalline droplets finding freedom from their confines and wetting the trails along his face again. "Don't leave me here. G-gomen for making you come here... I... I didn't know... About any of it or how you felt. Please, don't leave me alone... Please don't hate me..." 

Another flicker of something softer ran down Aya's spine, softening his tense form as he left his back turned to Omi. True emotions he kept hidden warring with Schuldich's control and dug old memories. A pale hand lifted to rub a temple, trying to ease away the headache one often got when a telepath was so deeply in their mind and they were fighting it, consciously or not. If the man would cooperate more and stop having conflicting feelings with his own thoughts, he'd just be left with a dull pounding ache for a few hours. But as it was he was going to have a killer of a migraine, Schuldich's little gift to him for not playing exactly as he wanted him to. 

Murmuring a few more curses in his native language across the festival from the pair, Schuldich fought for control again and debated what exactly to do with the redhead now. Best to get him to leave the festival so he could let his own headache ebb a bit and then go have fun with the very much broken Omi. A dark smile touched over his lips, realizing the possibilities. As the boy was now, he may even come **willingly** with Schwarz because at least they'd want him unlike Aya. And he couldn't go home or else the redhead may very well kill him. Sighing softly Schuldich kept his eyes shut while he continued lurking in Aya's mind for just a bit longer... 

Steeling his spine once more, the redhead just shook his head to the boy's pleas and continued walking away, never once glancing back over his shoulder to see the boy. Weiß was disbanded he was moving on, and he wouldn't look back. There was nothing to look back to. Sighing softly he turned his steps almost automatically to the Magic Bus hospital where his sister was still a patient until all the final arrangements to move were made, going to see the dark haired girl as he often did, trying to work out his confusion and sudden anger that was coursing through him. 

* 

Keeping in Aya's mind until he was well on his way to see his darling comatose sister, Schuldich left the thought that could not be easily fought that he had to go see his sibling in the blood tressed man's mind. Sitting up with a light yawn, he stretched his limbs and blinked to clear his vision, looking over at Nagi with a smirk. "Enjoying your apples, _kleiner Junge_? I just caused something far sweeter..." Humming softly the telepath slipped in a mental picture on the edges of Nagi's mind that could be accepted or rejected, a mental image of the crimson haired katana expert walking away without a care, leaving the honey blonde hacker alone in tears in the midst of a bright festival full of laughter and cheer, not a single person seeming to notice the young boy who was now so torn with a few carefully twisted words from who he considered his friend, words Schuldich had so delightfully urged and pressed Aya to say. "Poor little Weiß-fluff is all alone... We should go help him, don't you think?" 

Nagi paused, about to take a bite out of his second candied apple, the remains of the first already having found its way to tangling up some poor person's long hair. Not that Nagi would ever torment people in that manner. Carefully throw a sticky bit of apple on a stick at someone with long, gorgeous hair perhaps, but never intentionally torment. He was just too... Nagi for that, most truly. And no matter how much Schuldich rubbed off on him, he was still Nagi, perhaps with just a few tormentish tendencies. Not big ones, or obsessions, just small habits of making people's lives miserable in twisted revenge for his own life. After all, it was all in evil fun, so what did it matter? 

Er, back on track. 

Lowering the hand holding the apple, the youth tilted his head, accepting the mental image, the soft curves of a knowing smirk passing across his lips. A knowing smirk, one that showed a hidden appreciation of the cruelties that Schuldich could, and just had, bestow upon others. And one that just invited further images and replays of what had just happened to the pair of Weiß Schuldich had graced with his attention. "Looks like he could need the kind of 'help' that we could provide," he replied, his tone even, unshowing of the bitter cruelty that resided in his own mind. The want to hurt others, especially those 'normal' ones that always had tormented him, and the desire to make it as painful as possible for them. They deserved it, for being mean, and just being... normal. The normal called the psychics weird, when, in truth, it was the normal people that were the freaks. Or would be, in the world's end that Schwarz intended to bring about. 

And it was with that faint smirk on his face that the telekinetic stood, keeping his candied treat in hand while looking back to the German. "Care to go observe your night's triumph before intervening for the next round?" he inquired calmly. 

"Oh but you know me so well, Nags," Schuldich said in a sly voice barely coating the utter pleasure he felt at seeing the tiny smirk on the boy's face, knowing he took just as much pleasure in another's torment as the telepath did, even if he didn't intentionally seek it out as Schuldich did. Whenever possible Nagi did join his cruel games in his own way so long as he knew he wouldn't be caught in any crossfire if the game didn't go as planned. His pale hand reached out to lightly smooth down the telekinetic's hair as it was stirred by the cool breezes of the night before he started walking towards where he knew Omi to be at a leisurely pace. 

As he walked he never once checked his hair for any candy apple remnants even seeing Nagi had finished one off and didn't have the sticky remains. Honestly the boy could have done nearly anything to the older Schwarz psychic as he had lay on the bench fully encompassed in Aya's mind but Schuldich... the only thing to described it was trusted Nagi enough to not do anything to him as he was lost to himself in another's mind. Perhaps it was an odd bit of trust, or perhaps it was intelligence. Both knew that there were finely drawn lines to not be crossed with one another, and if someone did the penalty was... harsh. They were the two most powerful Schwarz members and had enough respect for the other, knowing the strains and stresses that were on their bodies from their cursed blessings of powers. 

Aya's mind was finally fully released as he was on his way to the hospital and Schuldich reached out to find Omi's to help find the boy more quickly. He spoke up into the boy's mind but it wasn't the nasally tones of the German telepath but just soft thoughts as if the boy's own. _~Turned away... by one close to you once more... Seems almost to be a cruel cycle doesn't it, bishonen...~_

Keeping his last candied treat in one hand and letting the other rest harmlessly at his side, Nagi moved silently alongside Schuldich. Turns were taken in glancing towards the telepath for signs of what to do next or what was upcoming in the little game that had been initiated and then to calmly watching the crowd, ready to push away with an unseen hand any who wandered too close to the psychic pair. It would not do, after all, to have their forming tournament of mental taunting of Weiß ruined by some innocent bystander. Especially since they would then have to get rid of said innocent bystander for interrupting their little hobby, and disposing of bodies and evidence could just get so time-consuming that it was just better to avoid killing any random person. For once. 

Looking again at the telepath, the telekinetic noticed the normally bright (with evil and malicious intent) jade eyes losing focus, picking up a foggy look as the German invaded another mind, or became distracted. The latter was the most likely, with their new game underway Schuldich was probably lost in thought. Specifically Omi's thoughts, considering that the young Weiß killer was their target. Keeping silent, Nagi turned his attention more to being sure that no one wandered into Schuldich, or that Schuldich wandered into no one. Broken concentration at this point could easily ruin all of the elder male's carefully laid thoughts and words, and Nagi didn't really feel like seeing all that deliciously dark and evil work go to work. It would depress Schuldich, after all, and ruin the festival's meager point of remotely fun redemption. That just was NOT going to happen... 

*

Soft blue eyes, deadened by the weight of the verbal strikes and emotional beating he had taken from Schuldich's indirect hand, watched the redhead disappear into the crowd, never once acknowledging or answering his pleading request to not be left alone. Feeling another few warm tears streak down his face, leaving swiftly cooling tracks of moisture that drew him towards shivering in the cold hair, Omi tried to not break right then and there. He bit his lip until faint tinges of crimson edged pure and unblemished ivory, the pressure laid upon delicate skin breaking the thin layer, just to keep himself focused. Or as focused as he could manage, with his world falling apart. Aya was right, Weiß WAS disbanding, taking away the one thing that was his entire life, and now he couldn't even return to the remnants of that, not with those coldly worded warnings of death should he ever fall into the gaze of violet that belonged to Abyssinian. Everything he had ever known had just managed to start crumbling apart, all because he'd made a stupid mistake and begged Aya to attend a festival he'd never wanted to attend. For what? A night to form good memories to hold once the assassin group was broken apart completely? That had fallen through rather completely. Leaving him alone, just as he'd begged to not be. 

__

~Turned away... by one close to you once more... Seems almost to be a cruel cycle doesn't it, bishonen...~ 

Trembling further in the cool air, Omi choked back a cry at his own mind speaking up to him, bringing up a painful comparison to his own past. It was as though his own mind was recognizing the truth behind Aya's words, and speaking up to hurry him along into realizing that. _'It's not the same, it can't be... I don't want it to be the same.'_ Soft words, fueled by poor, half-hearted feelings, ones that had just been crushed and were trying to rally to keep the boy as whole as his already splintered condition was. And ones that could stand up poorly to his own thoughts. In true retrospect, he could already see the similarities between this and so much in his past. His father, Hirofumi... now Aya. All three he had cared about, some with deeper feelings than others, and all three just dropping him like... Well, like some unneeded piece of trash they wished not to bother with anymore. Was he really that worthless? To have anyone he ever cared about or had thought cared about him, be taken from him or just turn around and reject him right at his most vulnerable moment. That had to make him worthless... Nothing else could explain the repetition of being left alone, with painful emptiness standing as the place that those he'd cared for had once filled. And, being so useless and repeatedly struck down, he just could no longer handle it. There were no pieces left to his life, just piles of scattered dust that his own mind was reminding him of. 

Curling both legs up to rest on the bench, Omi hugged them close to his body and rested his hand on the pillowed mix of arms and legs, allowing a few strangled sobs to escape him as skin and cloth alike began to dampen with tears. Worthless, alone. There was nothing for him, anymore, except the tears that never stopped flowing. 

* 

Schuldich had his wits about him enough to walk straight and not run into too many people, having played these games before, but Nagi's assistance was greatly appreciated. He let his slim fingers rest on the boy's shoulder as they walked, partly being led. There were reasons that whenever he played this deep in a person's mind he was often at home where he was not vulnerable to outside attacks. Right now his wellbeing was left in Nagi's small but powerful hands, the actual and the invisible psychic ones. 

His mental words continued to speak in Omi's mind, his still like the boy's own thoughts not his nasal German accent tainted tones. The words continued to be soft and soothing, the telepath easily slipping into the needed façade to get what he wanted. He was the guilty one and nothing was too low, not even playing a person's weaknesses to gain their trust just to break it. Their own fault he thought for being foolish enough to fall victim to word games. _~Of course you don't want it to be the same... No one ever wants to be looked down upon for what they are, for being something they cannot help. You never asked to be Takatori Reiji's blood son or an assassin. You barely even remember those days. Do you really wish to? Look at the Takatori line... all were fools, only puppets to help Reiji gain his power. And all are dead for their sins. You are Tsukiyono Omi though, you proved that. Even when you could have joined your brother and returned to being Takatori Mamoru, you did not. You would not betray Weiß, you would not betray** Omi**. You chose your path and it was to be Omi and no one else. That is the person you made yourself to be, an identity you created, when you had... nothing. Everything you are now is what you got on your own.~ _A low sigh flowed into Omi's mind of utter exhaustion but understanding as well, the physical and emotional exhaustion Omi felt and the understanding comfort he sought. _~There are people who understand being scorned for something you never asked for... You are not the only one...~ _

Keep an eye on Schuldich, or a glance he gave up every few seconds, Nagi moved through the crowd, which seemed to be thinning bit by bit, as the night grew older and the festival began to slowly draw itself to a close for another year. Good riddance. Festivals were an annoyance, as he had already concluded silently a multitude of times since arriving, or rather even hearing about it. As calm or intelligent as Nagi might be, he did whine to himself, to some extent. Especially about these damn festivals, being the peak of an evil society out to destroy other unique ones, like he was. And there he went again, on the repetitious festival-hating track. 

About to lose himself to that train of bitter thought again, the telekinetic paused as a short-lived break in the crowd revealed their target, almost twenty feet away and curled up on a bench like a broken, beaten child who'd been left by his parents for not measuring up to the standards set for him. Then again, with Schuldich involved, that could indeed be the case in the assassin's young mind, if the telepath had twisted his words right. Schuldich was an artist, of that there was no doubt; when his mind was to it (as it often was), the telepath could make night into day or lead into gold. Or rather, do so in the mind of his targets, setting in place unshakeable beliefs that tended to utterly ruin the lives of his chosen pawns of the day. 

Back to the boy, who had yet to notice them. Watching the other teen through the breaks in the slowly thinning crowd, Nagi tilted his head, slight interest and curiosity breeding itself in his mind. Interest in the progress of the boy's breakdown, and curiosity in what exactly Schuldich was doing to him. Slowing his pace and coming to a stop as he observed the boy, picking a 'safe' distance of fifteen feet. Safe in that he could easily stop any attack, if one occurred, as well as in reference to not being too close to break whatever delicate framework Schuldich had laid by their sheer close presence. Besides, fifteen feet was clear enough to see the boy's expression, or would be if he would just lift his head from his cradle of his arms. 

"There he is," he spoke quietly, words meant for only Schuldich to hear, to inform the telepath that they had arrived, in case he had yet to notice. 

*

So few people understood, that was true enough. Many tried to claim to understanding, but when their failure came through it was even more damaging than had they simply admitted their ignorance. Aya was forming into a case of such, to Omi at least. Someone who had said a few words, in thoughts of calming a boy who'd once gone through a crisis of self-identity. Placating him with the statement that he was Tsukiyono Omi, not Takatori Mamoru. Claiming to understand and not hold anything against him in any sense. Yet still one to turn around and yank those words back, adding new and hateful ones. Ones that were not of an understanding mind and heart; words from someone who could never even imagine the kinds of Hell Omi had gone through in finding and becoming who he was. Uncaring ones, and... The truth? The truth from someone who just didn't know. Perhaps that was it. Aya didn't know, he could never know, could he? To have a past that cannot be remembered, then have the whole world suddenly expect you to become your past self, when all you could be was your present one. No one could know. Few could even understand. 

Yes, that had to be it. 

The body shaking crying that had overtaken Omi's slight form began to slowly subside as calming words and thoughts filtered through him, trying to tell him that he was not in the wrong. Rejected, yes, but perhaps that he was not what Aya had rejected him for being. Doubtless, it still hurt him endlessly to think about it. Still easily brought tears to spill from his eyes and shattered bits of what he had managed to draw together of himself in the short time it had been. Yet, at least, perhaps, there were some things that existed beyond that most painful rejection. Perhaps. 

__

~There are people who understand being scorned for something you never asked for... You are not the only one...~ 

Lifting his head slowly from the cradle of his arms, Omi stared forward, his eyes missing their genki shine, only seeming to half focus on the world before him. Faint hints of questions began to edge in on the sapphire irises as they settled on the pair of Schwarz, not seeming to recognize or acknowledge either of the 'dark beasts', as his own mind would call them. He was too lost and hurt to even care that the man who had orchestrated, inadvertently or not, Ouka's death, was so near to him. And, indeed, his mind was too focused on 'his' thoughts to react to much else. _'What does that mean? Others that understand...'_ Too good to be true? Were there others that could understand being hated for being yourself, regardless of who that self was? Or how intelligent, useful, or just... alive that self was. People who knew what it was like to be rejected for things beyond one's control. He couldn't understand it, as much as he wanted to. And wanted it. The sudden option that, perhaps, he was not alone? A temptation nearly too great to exist or ignore... 

"Hold a moment..." Schuldich murmured to Nagi, his lips barely moving as he focused his clouded coke bottle green gaze on the boy. As he did he stepped a few feet away from Nagi closer to Omi, a rare look of understanding and softness on his face. It looked almost foreign on his German features (bad pun, he is foreign) but with all the comforting thoughts he was pushing into Omi's head, it would not be questioned. Even if it was comfort from the enemy. Amazing what the human psyche will accept when broken and torn, especially when put in that state by a friend's words. 

Oh yes Schuldich was a master of his words and games, knowing a person's mind and knowing what buttons to push. Omi's was abandonment. It was after his family tossed him aside that he was trained to be an assassin and accepted that life. He wanted Omi. Oh not like that. He wanted Omi, one of the most dedicated Weiß assassins, the one who was so insistent on wiping out 'the bad ones'. He wanted Omi to step willingly into the enemy's hands and to accept their aid when 'no one else understood'. And he knew how to get it, thus, he played this game. Using one of the people Omi considered friends to say everything the boy never wanted to hear. And then stepping in and saying everything the boy had ever longed to hear, saying it as the enemy, saying it as Schuldich. Mastermind. Schwarz. One of the 'bad ones' Omi never shut up about. If he could get Omi to take his hand and go willingly with him... he'd already once kidnapped the boy, it's quite dull actually... it would be one of his greatest victories. Up to this point. 

__

~I mean there are people who understand your plight quite well... Feeling lost in the world and only desiring acceptance. Seeming to gain it only to be tossed aside with little reason. So many understand in the world, and they're not far... if you know where to look.~ Said the spider to the fly, drawing him to the silver spun web... 

With every mental word he inched closer until he stood in the middle of the grounds between Omi and Nagi with his hand partly extended to Omi, at an angle so Nagi could see what was happening. So the telekinetic could still stop the boy from attacking if things suddenly turned wrong. But just a few steps away so Omi could come to him if he chose to, take the hand of the enemy since his friend had turned him away. 

As the saying goes, you catch a fly with more honey than vinegar. Too bad Aya-kun got puppeted to be the vinegar in this scenario...

If you know where to look... 

Ones that understood what it was like to strive for everything and receive that which was worth than nothing. Scorn. Ones who knew what it felt like to be bitten by that kind of hatred, and those who knew that it was the worst when such came from a friend. Or one who had seemed to be a friend, yet turned out to be the spider who had lured the unsuspecting fly into his parlor. Some fly he was, having walked straight into that particular web. Bitten with venomous words and left there. You'd think he would have known better, having heard the warnings about trusting too easily all too often. He should have been smart enough to avoid that, but... no, he'd trusted Aya. Something that was turning into one of his worst mistakes to date. 

Well, at least there was **someone** in the world who could understand how that went, and who was willing to help. Someone, or rather, someones, as the words in his own mind were suggesting. And he could find them if he knew where to look. Drawing his eyes into focus more, the young assassin saw the hand extended to him, his sapphire gaze following the owning arm up to the soft, concerned, understanding features of his worst enemy. One of the 'bad ones', yet... One that understood and was trying to show that. 

Slowly breaking from his curled up state, Omi stood with care, seeming fearful that he would be struck again in his weak moment, when he was vulnerable and finally finding some pieces of himself that wouldn't shatter with each new or old thought. A few hesitant steps were taken, the youth's gaze focused on the extended hand, which his own reached towards, a faint tremble still apparent in his fingers as fear of another biting statement and hurt from the ones already spoken battled for supremacy in the aftermath of Aya's puppeted threats. 

Reaching what seemed to be the extent of his strength, no surprise after the trauma that the festival had turned into, Omi watched as his fingers brushed Schuldich's own, his own balance seeming unsteady as he waited for what could easily turn into another rejection, when all he wanted was the acceptance and understanding that the German offered. Regardless of his stature as one of Schwarz, Schuldich was providing, as he had intended, the things that Omi wanted to hear and accept, especially after hearing what he had never wanted to from Aya. The game was sealing itself, and Schuldich was going to be the victor. 

Oh, but he deserved an award for this. Schuldich was The Guilty One, the one who heard a million voices and could don a million more masks. Called the Mastermind of Schwarz for a reason, he could slip into any demeanor and mind and mask and lurk there for a bit, playing the role needed and then drawing out to don another mask. It made one wonder just who the man behind the fair German face was, what with all the different roles and facades he slipped into, but... such was telepathy. As he often thought, he couldn't tell where some minds ended and his began. 

Even though in his mind, now slowly withdrawing from Omi's before he made a mistake and let his successful gleed thoughts slip through to the mental connection, his face never changed. Usually hard jaded emerald eyes were soft and comforting like spring green grass, his lips usually so smirking and leering turned into a light frown of concern for the boy as he shakily approached him. As Omi's trembling fingers reached out to slide into his grasp, it took every bit of restraint he had to not grin and wrench him off his feet, carrying him off and cackling to gloat this to Weiß and demand reward sex from Brad. Oh no, everything was in timing and he'd done so much so far to screw up now. He was going to have a pounding headache from all the mind delving and the press of people he went through tonight, he could already tell that, but it would be worth it. Just a few minutes more. It would be worth it. 

Closing his hand around the smaller one in comfort, the telepath dropped to one knee to be more on level with Omi, staring up at that sweet young face with a tiny smile of acceptance on his lips, concern still in his emerald eyes. Reaching out to touch that tear streaked face, he moved his hand very slowly as one would deal with a skittish abused puppy, not wanting to move too fast so it would run from getting the wrong idea, expecting another strike when it was comfort that was offered. Even though no one had brought a hand to him, verbal strikes were so much worse... as Hirofumi found out. Schuldich's fingers moved over the younger assassin's cheeks to wipe away the trails of tears, still holding his hand in his and giving him the support he so needed and craved. 

"_Sorgen Sie sich nicht mehr(4*)_," he said softly, his rich voice and nasal tones flowing in his words. "Don't worry anymore," he repeated in Japanese, doubting the boy knew German and not wanting him to think he was being insulted. He didn't yet speak to Nagi even telepathically, not trusting himself yet to be fully out of Omi's mind with his exhausted mental state. He needed a short rest before seeking the telekinetic's mind out. It wouldn't do to gloat and accidentally still be tied up with the Weiß hacker's mind now would it? Actually right now all he wanted was to go lurk in Brad's silent mind... that would be utter heaven, like a man in a desert finding a moisture rich oasis. But... time enough for that. Hopefully Brad would be so pleased with his breaking of Weiß he wouldn't even have to try to wiggle into that quiet mind but would rather be let in willingly. 

Oh, so many rewards would be headed his and Nagi's way for this... It was almost too easy... 

Standing back from Schuldich and the man's newest toy and triumph, Nagi arched a brow at how the German was going about his methods, fighting the want to cross his arms disapprovingly. Apparently the image being aimed for was one of comfort, not impatience or slight anger. Being comforting, however, was something Nagi was not skilled at, so he made certain to remain a distance back, counting on Schuldich to signal him if he were needed. But for now, he was a level of distance protection, just in case something went wrong. It was boring, but some telekinetic had to do it; shame he was the only one. 

Soft blue eyes, filled with pain and confusion, though with lingering tinges of relief and slowly calming emotions hiding in their depths, closed as the gentle touch, Omi feeling himself relax from the relief of not facing a sudden rejection. That alone was a deeply held comfort, something to calm him in the face of a nightmare. A slow breath was drawn in though lips that were pale from being pressed tightly together to stop the sobs of despair he'd been fighting back. Cries that were ebbing in their struggle for freedom as the one before him offered comfort... understanding. Everything. 

Allowing his eyes to open a slight amount, revealing a crack of sapphire tones that looked again to the German, who was being everything when Aya had been nothing, in the end. The boy almost seemed to wonder, somewhere in his mind, why it was that he had viewed such a comforting man as his enemy. Delusions, however, are the trademark of one afflicted by the mental game. As intended, Schuldich had played the teen right into his grasp, evidenced by a soft smile slowly stretching across the boy's lips. Faint reassurance that perhaps things would be okay now. 

Glancing to the hand that was holding his, an offer of support in the darkening night, Omi felt another tear break free. Yet it was not one of sadness or hurt, but rather one of relief. He had cried alone, a soul-draining thing; thinking that no one cared. It meant so much to him that Schuldich did, or at least played to it. Feeling the warm drop caress his face as it fell, he bit back the want to just collapse into Schuldich's arms and feel safe there. He was too afraid of making a wrong step now. 

"T-thank you," he whispered, his voice broken from his crying, Thank you, the only word he could imagine that could possibly fit what he was feeling. Simple, and hardly enough; yet it went with the prayer that it, too, would be accepted, for it was all he could offer for everything that Schuldich was providing. 

"_Bitte(5*)_," Schuldich replied, keeping the warm smile on his lips a match to Omi's as he continued holding onto the boy's hand. His hand stayed on the boy's cheek, wiping away the tears almost like a concerned mother. "Don't cry, any longer... there is no reason to. I'm here. I shall keep you safe. I understand, Omi-chan. I understand." His hand tightened a tiny bit on Omi's to pull him closer, getting a glimpse of his desire to fall into his arms, fall into the arms of the only one who seemed to understand. 

What was the truly sad part was that Schuldich did understand the boy's plight of being scorned by the world for something he could not help, thought crazy because he could hear voices and because of it was slowly driven insane. All of Schwarz understood. But because of it, they wished to destroy the world and cause mass chaos and anarchy so people will realize what true vicious animals they were, not hide behind a pleasant mask all the while cruelly ostracizing those different. They did not wish to do what Weiß did, fight for the tiny bit of good that existed in people, to protect the innocence. Schwarz merely wanted to destroy it as society would soon enough. 

Destroy the innocence... starting with this sweet boy. The human mind was an interesting thing really in what it would accept when traumatized. And though the telepath had never once taken a psychology class, he understood this all too well. Seeing the masks and delusions people hid behind, the lies they told themselves to make everything all right. 

Nagi's thoughts of disapproval of this flowed to him and a light mental chuckle flowed to him, his appearance of comfort and acceptance to Omi never once changing. _~Watch and learn, little Nags, watch and learn. I think I may lose my lunch later when I remember how sweet I'm being to this little fluff. But tell me this, Prodigy, you who know every single thing I have done to this boy in particular, did you ever expect him to accept my hand and aid under any circumstances?~ _

(4*) Sorgen Sie sich nicht mehr. - Do not worry yourself anymore.   
(5*) bitte - you are welcome 


	6. Cruel Justice * Part Five

Author's Notes: Realized it had been a few weeks since I'd posted any of this so here's the next installment. For you Schwarzie fans, Braddles appears in this part for a scene with Schuldich! For you yaoi lovers and shounen-ai lovers... sorry. Not that kinda scene. Please read anyway? *cute eyes and moves on* 

* 

Something akin to a mental preen flowed across the mental link up between Schuldich and Nagi. He wasn't concerned with Nagi's uncomforting appearance. Weiß had never once seen the youngest member of Schwarz, Brad preferring he stick to the background so he would not be harmed in physical battle, or strain his abilities should Weiß prove to be annoyingly persistent against the telekinetic. He was, to some extent, their ace in the hole. A 'secret weapon' of sorts. _~I suppose this is the only time you've ever seen me work, truly work. We all have our masks, Nagi, this is just one more of mine so I can get what I want. I just figured out his mask and his weak points and... basically brought a sledge hammer to his little world. Right now I am the lesser of two evils, and the lesser which will accept him.~ _

That much made sense, at least, but Nagi still found a certain discomfort in watching Schuldich play the part of the helper, not the killer. It was like watching the mouse suddenly turn and kill the cat, rather than the other way around. Spooky, unnatural; hell, just plain old freaky. He was probably going to have nightmares about it for a week, and knowing that Schuldich were around, they could too easily turn hentai, if the telepath got bored again. Maybe the little fluff would keep the male occupied, so that Nagi could enjoy a good night's sleep without his dreams being some sort of movie for Schuldich. There was nothing worse than a movie critic who could change the 'movie' as he wanted, Nagi knew this much from countless dreams that Schuldich had harmless influenced. Some had been nightmares that the telepath had calmed, and others simple ones that he'd added his unique sexual flair to, just to annoy the chibi telekinetic. 

Wandering off track seemed to be his ability of the night, and one that Nagi made a mental memo to fix before it actually began to affect him. After all, letting a tangent rule him had just ruined Omi, and the telekinetic wasn't going to be the kind of idiot that the Weiß member was. Walking into the arms of the enemy. Pfft. Game or not, one truly had to be just stupid to do that. _~I will admit, you did an excellent job in screwing this brat over.~ _Finally he allowed his response to reach the German's telepathic link, deciding that focusing on a response was much better than wandering on a tangent, as aforementioned. _~Moreso than with that Ouka-baka and her dear Daddums, Reiji-baka. Which I recall well enough, since your little favor asking left me with a headache for a week. I'll never touch a computer to scan and modify images like that ever again, I swear that much.~ _

Biting back further odd retorts, uncommon from the mouth, or mind, of the youth, Nagi raised his last candied apply to his lips and took a bite out of it, still watching the pair through the now mostly dissipated crowd. _~However, good job or not, it took a little long, ne? Are you almost done here? These people are still... freaky and I'd rather not stick around too much longer. Besides, some of us like to do natural things. Like sleep.~_ Though how he intended to sleep with the sugar that he was in taking was a question and a half. Well, he could feign it, or maybe work on his computer. Anything to get away from the people, they were just annoying. Like it was when he went into public, Nagi was trying to restrain himself from merely knocking down the ones that even looked at him, much less with a questionable expression on their face. After all, Nagi had never claimed to be, and never would claim to be, a people person. 

Utterly unaware of the mental conversation between Mastermind and Prodigy, Omi was finally nodding in slight acknowledgment to Schuldich's words, allowing himself to be pulled a step closer into the comfort of understanding, and the promise of protection when all the rest of the world wanted nothing more than to strike him down. He was tired, reaching exhaustion mentally, which to easily translated into that of it physically. He was tired, and safe now. And understood and accepted by ones who knew what it was like. 

Perhaps the evening was salvageable, after all... He'd come with the intention of having a good time with someone he thought a friend, and now was facing someone who truly represented the understanding that a friend should have. Had he just been lost in Weiß before? Had this been the true comfort he'd been missing, when memories had arisen and he'd been disregarded as 'fine' in the eyes of the others, when he'd clearly not been (regardless of his own statements that nothing was wrong when all that he said and did indicated else wise). 

Yet, that mattered not. He didn't have to worry anymore. The others were not here, Schuldich was. That was what counted; one had come through for him when all else had failed, and (wrongfully) Omi owed everything to him for that. At least, he did according to his exhausted and broken mental state. Nodding again, Omi allowed that hesitant smile to further itself on his lips. Things were fine now, there was no reason to cry, or be left alone. He was okay now, and protected. Mind not that it was his enemy doing the so-called protecting... 

Lean arms encircled about the exhausted boy and Schuldich then pulled him up into his hold, carrying the boy to wrap him in comfort. As he held him Omi experienced a light rocking motion in Schuldich's grasp, the telepath slowly trying to lull him further into content and trusting comfort as a mother would a loved child after finding them awake from a nightmare. Most mothers didn't weave the nightmare tale in order to gleefully take up the child from the far more loving bed, but... 

Nodding lightly to Nagi, he started for the stone steps leading up to the entrance of the festival so they would be able to get to the car and head back to Schwarz's base. It seemed the best possibility would be for Schuldich to drive to not subject Omi to Nagi's driving skills. It could frighten the already... poor traumatized little fluff. The entire focal point of his plan now was to make Omi feel completely safe and cherished while with Schwarz, and he doubted that Nagi's skills behind the wheel, good as they may be for a fifteen year old who could barely reach the pedals, could help in that aspect. 

__

~The masterful artwork of fucking someone over takes awhile, Nags, it cannot be rushed or done half heartedly. Ja, we're leaving, we're leaving. I suppose it is past your bedtime Chibi.~ Holding back a snicker and grin as he teased the boy mildly, he contented himself to just smooth away the soft cornsilk bangs from Omi's deep blue eyes as he held him easily in his arms. This was the nice thing about targeting the youngest of Weiß... carrying Aya, Ken, or Youji like this was a laughable and painful image at the least. _~Don't worry, Naggles, I'll be my cruel self in every possible and visible way soon enough. Just play along... all that's left is the ride home then we can do whatever we damn well please once the boy's completely in our hands.~_ Humming softly to himself, Schuldich smiled serenely as they made their way down the steps, in his head danced the possibilities of reward from Brad for this. 

No resistance came from the young assassin within Schuldich's arms, Omi wanting to be held, protected. Just wanting to feel the kind of warmth that the German's words had provided to him. Resting his head against the shoulder provided, the boy's sapphire eyes slid half-closed, a state of relaxation slowly overtaking him as the nightmare seemed to fade from his mind. His breathing had evened out as well, no longer the halting action it had been, irregular at best as he had been while crying and alone. Finally he was feeling that some parts of himself could return to normal. Now that he was 'safe' at least. But safe to his mind and safe to reality at the moment were two very different things. Especially when reality declared being carried in the arms of your enemy and damned dangerous thing. 

"Are we going somewhere safe?" he asked, his voice quiet and hesitant. Not that he could even define what safe was. It certainly was not Weiß and Koneko, not after the warnings Aya had spoken to him in that voice reserved for targets. He was just hoping someone knew where it would be safe for him, since even simple self-defense was a skill laying in hiding after such a horrid evening. 

Pacing Schuldich, or rather staying just a few steps behind, Nagi finished what he could manage of his candied apple before sending it off into another poor bystander, who had the nerve to try and scream when they'd seen the candy flying at them. Prompt landing of the core and caramel bits in said person's mouth had silenced them before much of a sound had escaped, and thankfully their little kitten toy hadn't noticed. Midnight eyes glanced at the boy Schuldich was carrying, a shrug breaking the stillness of his shoulders as he decided to disregard the stupidity shown in the boy's actions. Bah, walking into the arms of Schwarz. The kid honestly deserved what he was going to get for that idiot move alone. And, well, Nagi wouldn't hide the fact that he wouldn't mind being one to watch or administer some of the twisted things that could happen while the white kitten was with the dark psychics. It would be... fun. Really. 

Taking the steps with care, unable to leap down them like some other boys his age might have, the telekinetic viewed the car as he approached. The dent in the hood he had forced Schuldich to cause was concentrated on for a moment, the metal smoothing itself out at his invisible hand. _~There, Schuldich. For being so... evil, you get a cookie. Or rather, your life saved from Crawford's wrath.~_ Looking over to the German, the teen allowed the slightest hint of a smirk to cross his features. _~And you can ask him for a cookie when we get back with this prize.~ _

To illustrate the point and want to get home and get home now, the youth looked back to the vehicle, concentrating. A moment later, the doors opened slowly, his powers having undone their release and propped them open. _~No doubt you're driving. Have fun adjusting the seat back to normal. Where do you want to put the kitten? Trunk?~_ Oh, okay, so Schuldich would probably very much NOT agree with that, but it was a fleetingly interesting idea. But, damn, Nagi could figure he'd have to wait until they got home before actually tormenting the kid. Pity. 

The smile on Schuldich's lips lightly touched his eyes as he watched the dent on the hood straighten out perfectly to its usual immaculate appearance. _~Danke(6*) Naggles, I appreciate that. Now Brad won't have to dent me... and you know I would have gotten you back if he dented me to match his precious car. Somehow...~_ Oh but it was hard to fight off the evil smirk from touching his lips but he did. If Omi had somehow seen it, he highly doubted the boy would be very happy. Not that there was much he could do with a full powered even if cranky-because-it-was-past-his-bedtime telekinetic and a migrainey-but-still-ready-to-kill-and-mush-minds telepath flanking his side. 

It was just so much more amusing and satisfying if the boy fully came willingly as he was. He knew their faces, their lives were in his hands... just as he said to them once, just as he was proving now. 

Turning his head down to the boy as he asked the question, the German Schwarz member nodded lightly, running his long fingers through the cornsilk strands of the youngest Weiß. "Very safe..." Safe to whom he didn't say. The SZ safe house where Schwarz was currently residing was indeed one of the safest locations around, impossible to break into, and who would really want to with a former boxer precog, a knife happy psycho, a high level telepath, and a telekinetic who despises all but Schwarz, living there? 

__

~Nein, my evil Chibi, we are not putting him in the trunk. But I was thinking once we get home he'd like to stay in one of the padded cells we have for Farfarello? I don't think we've had cell 2 cleaned out from the last time he had a cutting spree.~ Shrugging faintly, he turned the motion as if he was just adjusting the boy in his arms as he leaned down to the passenger door. _~Sit in the back for now, Nagi. Resist the urge to kick his seat... there will be fun for him later on.~_ Setting the younger assassin down into the passenger seat, Schuldich slipped the seatbelts around him and buckled them before moving around to his side of the car. After adjusting the seat which was shoved to the very front of its tracks, nearly mashed against the steering wheel, the telepath got in and started the drive back home. He intended to knock Omi out with a swift telepathic blow before they got where they were going so he wouldn't know where Schwarz's base was and couldn't have second thoughts. 

Calmly sitting in the rear seat, or rather sitting there in the annoyingly impassive fashion for which he was known, Nagi arched a brow at the suggestions Schuldich had offered for where to stick the little lost kitten. That cell certainly sounded appropriately, if a little messy. Farfarello, after all, wasn't that picky about where he splattered blood while on one of his sprees; whether it was himself he was cutting or some poor bastard that Schwarz had decided to let the Irishman cut up, the padded room always ended up a crimson mess. The young Weiß would probably enjoy such a thing; perhaps the smell of death would still be distinct enough to further upset him. _~Pity we cannot lock him in there **with** Farfarello; he was been so well behaved that he almost deserves a kitten to scratch up. Perhaps just the remaining memories of the latest spree of blood and death will suffice to keep him in line, and the remains of that spree enough to bother the assassin.~ _

Crossing his arms and allowing midnight eyes to drift shut, the telekinetic allowed his body to move gently with the motions of the vehicle. They would be 'home' soon enough, or rather their current place of residence. Schwarz never lived in one place too long, Crawford trying to avoid it. Muttered something's about ex-employers being a hassle if they were found and the like were provided to explain each move. Generally, just an annoyance, but at least it was some form of home. One of the many buildings they tended to circle through when wanting to upset any trying to trace them. _~Planning to take care of the fluff or would you rather let him see where we're going? I could always do the honors if you are too tired or busy to bother.~ _

Compared to the cold, hard surface of the bench he had been crying on, the car's seat was all encompassing comfort. Perfection, really, and something that Omi could almost fall asleep on. Luckily, or so he thought, he was barely managing to stay awake, his mind curious as to where the safe place was. Himself wanting to see, with his own eyes, what constituted safe in a world such as his own. So, yes, barely was he managing an awake state. Sapphire eyes were half closed, noting with bare recognition streets that were passed or landmarks that could have proven useful for him, in some future. 

Not that it truly mattered where it was, just that it was safe. And that someone cared enough to allow him to remain in that safety with them. Turning his head enough to look to the driver's side of the vehicle, the young Weiß assassin smiled, the motion tired but truthful. Appreciation and thanks for Schuldich's understanding, and carrying absolutely no suspicion or concepts that he was about to be shown exactly what kind of mistake he had made in coming with Schwarz. 

Glancing over at the boy who seemed to be in a daze but was still alert enough to be gazing out the window, noticing landmarks, Schuldich let a tiny smirk touch his lips finally. It hardly mattered now if the youngest Weiß member saw it now. The landmarks that the boy had seen would do him no good though. Schuldich knew that the boy was unwavering Weiß and no one would ever be able to make him stop noticing his surroundings, so he had gone a complete alternate route to their momentary home. 

__

~Nein, Naggles, I can handle him. With the migraine I'm getting, it'll be a blessing to release some of the voices into a sweet young mind.~ Glancing over to the Weiß member he gave him his usual sadistic gleeful smirk even as the boy gave him that almost adoring smile of full trust and appreciation. He never even said a word to the boy before a shrieking of whispering, murmuring, crying, chattering, and endless babble that he always heard slammed into Omi's mind. It was a telepathic attack that could easily kill a 'normal' person or drive them insane, depending on how he filtered the voices and how long he let his victim exposed to it. As he was doing to Omi, it was just enough to knock the poor boy unconscious for a good long while. 

As the attack succeeded and the honey blonde youth slumped into his seat, Schuldich started chuckling softly, the sound low in his throat. "Oh the look on his face... that'll give me wonderful dreams for weeks!" he said vocally, knowing that Nagi disliked telepathic conversation and only used it when there was no other choice. Pausing at a corner he did a quick U-turn to send them going in the more direct route home. As he drove his usual too reckless speeds, he sent out a mental feeler to hunt for that blessed silent mind of his leader. "We're in luck, munchkin! Bradikins is still at that meeting and bored out of his mind," he said cheerfully but the great amounts of sadistic cruelty laced his undertones. "We have time still to get home, shove the kid in Farf's cell, and most importantly, get Brad's Beamer back where it belongs." 

Watching the form of the Weiß killer crumple, even Nagi had to resist the urge to smirk in a manner that was befitting to Schuldich. Leaning forward, the telekinetic finally broke his impassive form and crossed his arms over the seat before him, midnight eyes glancing down at the unconscious body in the front. The now violent turns of the vehicle was making both the boy's and his own body move, momentum trying to toss both about with its force. However, the seatbelt around the boy, sadly, stopped his bruising and beating, and the young Schwarz member merely counterbalanced each turn with his own powers. Being a telekinetic had its advantages, as he knew too well (along with disadvantages, but, hey, nothing was ever perfect); and one of them was the he never got a seatbelt bruise. Hard to bruise when one does not need to wear a seat belt, after all. 

Managing to balance himself as Schuldich pulled to a rough halt, Nagi took the initiative once the car had ceased motion, pushing his seat forward. Omi, of course, was not cared much about in the motion, the boy probably gaining a serious bruise or two as the telekinetic squeezed out. Care was not given to a prisoner of... While not war, it was certainly a form of conflict. Still, as it stood, Nagi just preferred to term the teen as a prisoner of his own stupidity. And, no, the telekinetic was not about to let up on Omi's mistake in walking into Schwarz's hands, quite literally. He was quite happy, or content in consideration that Nagi never actually **looked** happy, with harping on the matter and no one was going to change that any time soon. 

Looking to the white assassin, Nagi concentrated for a moment, unfastening the seatbelt and disentangling the boy from it. Pity he couldn't strangle him then and there, but a live prize was more interesting than a dead one. And, somehow Nagi doubted that Schuldich would forgive him if an 'accidentally' dead Weiß member ended up in only a reward nod rather than reward sex from Brad. Not that the German would get the latter, considering their American leader. So, sadly, he let the boy out of the car unharmed, keeping the lifeless (well, save the steady breathing in his chest) form a few inches off the ground. 

Midnight eyes turned to Schuldich as the telepath emerged from the American's car. "Go plan how to show him off, if you wish," he said, his voice simple and lacking overtones or under ones regarding emotion or even approval or lack thereof. "I'll go put the kitten in his new... home." Allowing a soft shrug to break his still shoulders at his choice of words, the telekinetic turned and moved towards what he considered the darker regions of the Schwarz headquarters-of-the-week. Darker to him because it was Farfarello's realm, or rather where the Irishman was locked up when he began a bloodthirsty spree. And as powerful as the psycho was, Nagi found his insanity unsettling at times, especially when that amber eye glanced about with the intent of 'hurting God' hiding in their unnatural depths. 

Carrying the boy with him, or rather using his telekinesis to lift him up any major steps, Nagi carefully made his way to the chosen cell, cautiously alert for the white-haired sinner. Farfarello was too prone to silent habits and could too easily, and without intent, scare his little, ill-equipped form half to death if he just stepped out in the hall. One day, he would really have to get a psycho-warning system or the like, if he wanted to avoid a heart attack before the age of twenty. 

The coast remained clear, thankfully, and the teen was shortly pulling open the door to the second padded room allocated to the insane man. Inside, much as Schuldich had surmised, was a mess of dried blood. Crimson dotted the walls and floor, accompanied by the slight stuffingly disgusting stench of death. Farfarello must have had a priest with him the last time, for there to be such a mess and such a smell. All in all, the perfect place to keep their little prize. 

Moving aside and eyeing that prize, Nagi showed no sympathy, remorse, or other identifiable emotion as he pushed him in with an invisible hand. The boy, sadly, was still knocked out. That meant he couldn't be present to see his initial reaction. Or... Perhaps he could. Closing the door firmly, Nagi started towards the illustrious version of a space room that the building had. In other words, the room in which his computer was situated, and where most of Schwarz tended to hang out. In a fit of Crawford-like foresight, he'd hooked up a few cameras and had the feed running to his computer. And watching that boy's reaction would be so pleasant if he could get there in time. 

Hopefully, at least, Schuldich wouldn't demand his reward from Crawford to be had in said room. Nagi did not need THIS computer defiled as the German had his last three. Computers were not meant to witness sexual intercourse, and the telepath did not seem to know this. Or rather he did, and took pleasure in defiling each of the boy's computers just to annoy him and break that rule. Germans... Go figure. 

* 

Waiting in the darkness of Brad's room for the man to get home, Schuldich leaned against the wall and hummed a light tune under his breath. Every so often he would send light feelers out to see if the man was home yet. Omi, still unconscious. Nagi, typing away at some porn site. No not really but all that time he spends in front of the computer... really, it was such a waste the boy had no interest in pornography. He could easily hack past the barriers on that damn Adult Check Gold porn protector server thing. Anyway. Farfarello, happy about something. Schuldich retreated from that insane mind quickly. He'd just rather not know why the man was so gleeful on the fringes of his mind. He went out hunting early evening and was now back in one of his cells (he had about five so some could be cleaned while he lived in another. It was a long process to clean them and no clean up crew would do it with him in it.). That was all Schuldich needed to know. He chose to not watch the man kill. Especially when it was just a "thrill kill". Crawford... ah, there was that silent mind he so adored and from what he could glean from it, the man had just parked and was heading into the building. 

Moving over to the wall near the door, the German shifted his weight from foot to foot, imagining Brad's surprise and awe at what he and Nagi did. First he'd see the man's reaction... then he'd tell him about their youngest member's involvement. As the door opened Schuldich moved forward, intending to press himself against the American's back and put his hands over his eyes. 

"Mastermind, if you do that I will have Prodigy or Berzerker, whichever one is unoccupied at the moment, remove your hands from your wrists." 

Freezing, Schuldich just raised his hands which had been outstretched to flip through his untamable mane of fiery colored hair. Brad's cool authoritative tones sent a shiver through him and he just grinned in the darkness. How the man knew everything he was going to do got annoying... Precogs, go figure. 

"Cheery 'konbanwa' to you too, Braddy," he said in smooth deep tones and used his quick speed to flop into the chair it seemed Brad had been moving to sit in, flipping his legs over the armrest and peering up at his leader and desire with his hands across his chest drumming the slender muscles of his body. "Guess what I did tonight, Boobear!" 

"Screwed the final person you needed to have your conquests include all of Japan's population?" Brad answered him back chilly and eyed him flopped in his chair. Rather than fight the war to get the man out, a war which Schuldich would use every opportunity of to grope and cuddle, the man just moved to sit on the edge of his perfectly made bed, pulling his laptop from its case to add to the notes he made of the meeting. 

Frowning lightly for a moment, Schuldich quickly plastered the wide grin upon his cupids bow lips. "Oh now Braddy you'd remember had I finally screwed you. And you're wrong. It's better than sex." An actual smile touched on the edges of Schuldich's lips, the man trying to hide how proud he was of his and Nagi's accomplishment with the little Weiß manager. 

"More important than sex, coming from your lips. I cannot even fathom." 

"Ok, ja, maybe it wasn't **better** than sex but it's up there on the list of enjoyments at a close second to sex... There's sex and then there's sadistic pleasure of torturing someone, which are even more enjoyable when put **together** but apart they're both still very very good--" 

"Schuldich." 

The German paused in his rambling list of enjoyments and peered at the dark haired American through a veil of pale lashes. Meeting the man's pale amber brown gaze, he fluttered his eyelashes at him, letting his voice take on a breathy tone. "Ja, _mein Führer(7*)_?" 

"I do not have time for your inane guessing games. Just tell me what it is you did tonight if you so long for me to know," Crawford deadpanned, never looking up from his laptop. The clacking of keys filled the room as slender fingers moved over the laptop keyboard. Glancing up, Brad met the younger man's gaze with a faint light of impatience and annoyance in his gaze behind his glasses. "Well?" 

Letting that devil-may-care smirk grace his lips once more, Schuldich regarded the man silently. He allowed a subtle telepathic feeler to go over Brad's mind. Well... the man seemed to actually have no knowledge of Schuldich's activities of the evening from his precognition. 

"Guess what's now in one of our _verrückt's(8*)_... messier cells--" 

"Schuldich if you ever care for me to take you a bit seriously, do not attempt to play children's guessing games with me." 

A soft sigh fell from the man's lips as he twisted a strand of coppery orange hair about his finger. Damn but Crawford took all of the fun from things. Where was the fun of being blunt and to the point? Bah! 

"Little Bombay, Brad." A spark of sadistic light entered his emerald gaze as he thought of the play he perfectly orchestrated. And on the spur of the moment too! "You should have seen it, B, it was manipulation even you'd be proud of--" 

The man's words were cut off as a hard slap cracked across his cheek, causing pained red to blossom on his skin. The sharp sound of skin on skin still echoed in the room, ringing in the German's ears. He rose his hand up to press over the stinging flesh, Schuldich just staring in mute shock at the man for a moment. 

OK this wasn't the acknowledgement of his accomplishment he'd been expecting... 

Leaving his hand pressed against his cheek to cool the burn he slowly sat upright in the chair, looking over to Brad who was typing slowly and just staring at the man. He could see an angry burning of anger in the man's eyes but everything else was perfectly coolly composed. Finally regaining his speech, Schuldich cleared his throat and put his hand down, not wanting the evidence that he was in pain. 

"Well.... Brad. I know that American and German cultures are quite different but I wasn't aware that in America you slap someone to tell them you're proud of them. What do you do when someone upsets you?" 

"You fool, Schuldich!" Brad hissed and shut his laptop, setting it on the bed as he rose up near the chair. His hand lashed forward to grab the German's collar and lift him up, bringing their faces close. "Why must you insist on doing things against my orders?" 

"_Was(9*)... Was es los(10*)_... Brad, you never ordered me not to do anything to Omi and Aya!" 

"And when did I order you to kidnap the youngest Weiß member?" Brad continued, tightening his hand on the man's collar. 

Giving a tiny squeak and struggling against his leader's hold and gaining nothing, the telepath met the man's gaze, his own confusion lighting in his eyes. Ok deep down he hadn't really been expecting reward sex from the untouchable Brad Crawford, but he hadn't been expecting **this**. What the hell, was Brad now pro-Weiß or something? _Verdammt(11*)_! That was fucking impossible. It had been Brad who told Schuldich to bring Omi to Hirofumi to be beat for information on Weiß. Sighing softly, he lifted his hands to close over Brad's wrist, trying to get a bit more room so he could draw a breath. 

"I didn't... kidnap him, Brad... If you'd just listen..." 

Frowning at the touch, the precog released his hold on him and promptly dropped Schuldich to the floor and took a seat in the unoccupied chair. Lifting his hand, Brad was perfectly composed again as he fixed his tie and adjusted his glasses, the lenses flashing in the light. "Explain further then Mastermind." 

Coughing as he landed, Schuldich withheld a tiny cry of upset as he landed on his side, his hipbone impacting hard with the floor. Nothing broken but he'd bruise, he knew it. He and Nagi were the thinnest and frailest of Schwarz, though Schuldich hardly to Nagi's degree of fragileness. Sighing softly he looked up at the man, anger in his gaze as he pondered over what to say. Nagi. If Brad was so pissed at him for doing this... he couldn't tell him Nagi was involved. There was not going to be any reward. Nagi would hurt him if Schuldich took his rightful pat on the back for helping him with the two and being around while Schuldich worked his games. But if Schuldich took the credit, the blame, and the punishment... He was the guilty one. He enjoyed the punishment. Everyone expected him to not walk the straight line, to try to follow orders but get in some enjoyment Brad never fully specified while he could. He was Schuldich, the disobedient one. Nagi was not. Nagi was Brad's little star of Schwarz. And it was something that Schuldich helped the boy keep secretly, knowing the boy could use some of the self esteem building. God knew he didn't need it and Farfarello hardly cared about egos unless they hurt God. 

"I'm waiting, Schuldich." 

Settling into a more comfortable position on the floor in a seductive sprawl, the telepath reclaimed his lazy smile and lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "I got bored sitting around here and went out to that carnival to do some mass people watching and tormenting. I stumbled upon the minds of the redhead and the genki one of Weiß enjoying the carnival like 'normal' people. It was an opportunity to play I couldn't pass up. Keeping my distance to not let them know I was there, I rummaged in Aya's mind to have him say a few cruel things to little Omi, turning him against him and them abandoning the boy there. Then I went forward and Omi came willingly with me. I didn't kidnap him. That's all I did. I broke two of Weiß. Why is this a bad thing? They're an annoyance and they know our faces. The quicker we split them the better. Maybe we could just get them to kill each other." 

Shrugging again, Schuldich dropped the American a wink. "I've seen their minds, Brad~ley. It wouldn't be hard. Could take a few strenuous nights on my powers but it could be nice. Hell making Aya shi-ne them all would be easy enough... or making Youji snap and blame them for his precious Asuka. Or make Ken claw them all to death because of a few perfectly placed bits of evidence that they're betraying him like Kase did. Oo or while we have Omi I could tug at his guilt of being a killer and have him kill the others of Weiß so he can be 'free'." Perking up at the thought of the four he knew to be what you may call friends killing one another viciously, Schuldich smiled at his leader. "Whatcha say B, we can get all of Schwarz in on it. It can be a little bonding fest for us." 

He gritted his teeth hard as another slap came to his flesh, hard enough to turn his head to the side. Letting out a hiss of disgust at himself, angered green eyes turned to Crawford. The American was the only one who was ever able to get a strike in on the agile quick mind reader and they both knew it. And Schuldich hated that fact because Brad used it often. 

"Who is the leader of Schwarz, Schuldich, you or me." 

"You, you frostbitten prick..." the man grumbled and raised his hand to brush over his lip that was now bleeding from where he bit it with the strike. Scrunching his delicate nose, Schuldich started to get to his feet. 

"Stop making plans that are not in your capacity or position to make, Schuldich," Brad said simply and leaned forward, grasping the telepath's chin hard in his hand. "Let me tell you something, my little German bird. I have already seen the future of our use for Weiß. If they were better off dead and not advantageous to us, do you think I would have not already given the order to kill them? It would be so simple really. Darts, wire, claws, katana versus two psychics, a man without pain, and a man who knows your moves before you do. Pathetic, really. Almost laughable." A dark smirk touched on the American's lips as he let his fingers caress the stinging red cheek he'd slapped moments ago. 

Pulling his face from the man's hold with a light sneer, Schuldich sat back away from the man on the floor. Brad's soft fingers sent a tingle through his body making him ache and he just wanted to let himself melt into that hold... but he knew the Schwarz leader was mocking him, trying to draw him in to shove him away once more to see if Schuldich would come back again. As he always did. That was almost laughable. 

"What's your point..." he murmured, shoving Brad's hand away when he reached out again, that seductive smirk on his lips. Dammit but he couldn't figure this man out at all. 

"My point is we need them to further our goals. We need them in the pathetic state they term a team. I've seen what the future will bring with them and with us and it is entwined, tightly entwined. We cannot have them broken, yet, Schuldich. I only hope that your simple game tonight did not foul up what is slowly building..." _(12*)_

Crossing his arms over his chest, Schuldich sat up on the backs of his heels, glaring at his leader. "_Verdammen Sie(13*)_, Crawfuck... You know it's really hard to not screw up your 'secret plans' if I have no damn clue what they even **are**." 

He sulked faintly when he saw that the man wasn't answering him. Instead Brad had his eyes closed, focusing. Sighing softly Schuldich actually fell silent. It was a look of concentration he could easily recognize... the precog was trying to filter the visions that constantly assaulted his mind, somewhat like a visual version of Schuldich's telepathy, looking for one in particular. 

Tilting his head in curiosity, Schuldich brushed across Brad's mind but all he could get from the man was something about Schreiend and Aya. Great. The Bitches Four. The great plan had something to do with those psychos? 

Cocoa tinted eyes opened and Brad smirked softly, focusing his gaze onto the telepath. "Iie. Everything can work out fine, my pretty bird. If you release the boy and do it soon, Aya shall come to his senses, they can patch things up, and we can continue on our way to getting what we strive for." 

Laughing bitterly, Schuldich quirked up an eyebrow at the man. "If I 'release the boy'? Correct me if I'm wrong, Brad, but doesn't it go against our evil guilty image to just release the hacker of Weiß? We're the 'villains', he's the 'hero' of this screwed up story. We don't just say _'Es tut mihr leid(14*)_, we made a mistake. Go free so we can go back to trying to kill each other. _Auf Wiedersehen(15*)_!'. I'm sure as Hell not saying that." 

Leaning forward, Brad patted the younger man's cheek and stood from the chair. "You will figure out something proper and Schuldich-esh. I know you will." Smirking softly, the man's face was slightly smug as if the precog had already seen what Schuldich would come up with to properly release Omi in a villainesh way. Damn precog... 

"Oh Schuldich..." 

"Ja?" 

"I'm disappointed in you." 

Tossing his fire hair over his shoulder, Schuldich smirked and looked back at Brad for a moment. How many times had he heard that phrase? How many more times would he hear that phrase? "Surprise, surprise. What did I do to piss off the great omnipotent one **now**?" 

Staring evenly at the telepath, Brad just crooked up his eyebrow. "I had business to attend to tonight and I merely asked you to stay here with Nagi. But instead you chose to go gallivant with the boring masses of Tokyo. Really Schuldich. I cannot trust you with any simple tasks can I?" 

Letting out a soft chuckle, Schuldich just tipped his head to the side as he contemplated on that. He brushed across the man's mind again to be sure if he was being sarcastic. Nope. So it seemed the omnipotent one was not so omnipotent at all. The telepath tacked up a mental reminder to screw with the minds of the guards who saw him leave the building earlier with Nagi. It would be easy enough to wipe their minds and just have them remember the orange haired telepath leaving and forget they ever saw the small slip of a Japanese boy. Being both a mind raper and the Guilty One had its benefits. Having no conscience or regrets for lying and being able to cover his own ass... yes telepath had its uses. 

Jutting out his hip and dropping his hand on the crook of it, Schuldich just shrugged softly and gave his leader a grin. "Now now, _mein Führer_, you should know after all of these years how I am with orders. Nagi's fine by himself. You know how he feels about me hanging about him when he's chatting and cybering and hacking. He's afraid I'll break his computer or have sex on it or something." Shrugging again, he dropped the man a wink. "That sounds like an idea... he can't complain much if his infallible leader is doing it with me... Come on, Braddy Baby, I know you're American so are most likely not well endowed. I promise not to tease, there's nothing to be scared about. I'm sure I've seen less and more no matter what the case..." 

"Get out of my room, Schuldich." 

Clapping his hands together, Schuldich moved back across the room to press his hands against the man's broad chest, leaning his head up to put his lips near Brad's ear. He knew he was pushing the line but dammit after being slapped twice he just wanted to touch the man once. He was some kind of addiction that the German couldn't get enough of. 

"If you're a virgin, Brad, it's ok. You don't have to be so frigid. I know you were in Rosenkrüs(16*) since an early age so you never really had a chance... I can teach you. I could be so patient..." 

Grabbing the man's wrist, Brad pulled Schuldich close so their lips were nearly touching, his dark eyes boring into the telepath's emerald irises. "You want what you don't know, Schuldich. If I was to let you into my bed, what would you give up? What are you giving up by not being with me? In the end, what are you gaining by your continued pursuit of me?" Letting go of the man, the American pushed the telepath away without ever contacting their lips. "Leave me, Schuldich, we both have work to do. For once don't waste my trust in you." 

Scrunching his nose lightly, Schuldich let his tongue swipe over his lips to collect the taste of Crawford's breath from their close proximity. He sighed softly, getting the hints of coffee flavored with a bit of mocha... surprisingly sweet for such a hard authoritative man. Most likely it lingered on his breath from the near whole pot of coffee he drank before going to the meeting with the SZ agents. He needed it to stay awake while they blah blahed away. "Ja ja... So we do, Braddyboo. You know you can't continue rejecting me, Brad. I know what I'd be giving up. Do you know what you're giving up by staying so sheltered." Heading towards the door, he glanced over his shoulder. "Sleep well, Brad, in your very cold bed..." 

The door shut behind him as he wandered down the hallway, his mind thinking on Brad's words. _~Nagi. We have a slight problem but I think I know how to fix it.~_ He reached into his pocket to get the Extra Strength Advil. It was going to be a long night. 

Like most of his were.

*   
TBC   
* 

__

(6*) danke - thank you   
(7*) mein Führer - my leader   
(8*) verrückt - psycho   
(9*) was - what   
(10*) was es los - what the heck/hell   
(11*) verdammt - dammit   
(12*) SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOILER!   
In case you didn't figure it out, (that sounds so rude gomen ) this is referring to the fact that Schreiend kidnaps Aya-chan. Schwarz uses Weiß (who are fighting together and are all helping Aya-kun) to get rid of Schreiend. They then get Aya-chan and use Weiß more to get them to kill two of the SZ leaders. They want free from SZ. This Brad has basically foreseen all of that and is making sure things to go plan. He needs Weiß together not hating Aya-kun so they'll help him get Aya-chan back and go to any lengths as they did in the anime. That's why he got so pissed at Schuldich. He was afraid that he kidnapped Omi and its too early in the 'game' to have Weiß come after Schwarz to get their boy back.   
(13*) verdammen Sie - damn you   
(14*) es tut mihr leid - sorry   
(15*) Auf Wiedersehen - goodbye   
(16*) Rosenkrüs - An odd spelling of Rosenkranz_ - rosary. This is SZ's 'school' for their psychics. Each of Schwarz has spent time in this institution to train their abilities (Farfarello in their asylum to see his uses). _


	7. Cruel Justice * Part Six

Notes: Sorry for making you wait so long! Here are the next two parts of Cruel Justice. Getting past the rising action of the story and to the climax!  
...not that kinda climax. Sorry Yaoi and Shounen-ai fans, this fic just did not go that route. But for you AyaxOmi fans out there, Sky and I have a little shounen-ai fic in the works since this one is near wrapping up. ^_~ You'll need to look for that under Sky's fanfiction.net name. Sky! Well enough blabber from me, on with the show!  
-Gal  
============== 

The soft glare of the screen's light cast itself over youthful features that were forever locked in a look too serious for one so young. Pausing in his loading of the video feed links, Nagi allowed a soft tilt to his head at Schuldich's unexpected mental message. Slight problems noted by the telepath were something to attend to, for one never knew if it were merely a whining fest of the German or an understatement of the reality. And considering the upset undertones to the mental voice, most likely thought to be hidden by Schuldich but still picked up by the telekinetic, who had too long been exposed to the German's habits to not recognize certain changes in tone and habit to illustrate a shift in temperament, the situation was most likely of the latter. But an understatement of what? What would upset Schuldich after his little proud bragfest that he had undoubtedly made Crawford endure. 

Taking pause, a light frown played over those emotionless features, a sudden hint of what might have happened occurring to Nagi. Once his mind got working, it was difficult to keep the teen from figuring out what was up through logical conclusions and given hints in a situation. And that night was no different. _~Crawford did not take the news well?~_ he inquired in his mind, well aware that the telepath was awaiting a response and would thusly pick up the thought. 

The wait for a response was cut short as a bit of soft motion on his screen caught Nagi's attention. Further, that stolen attention noted something quite intriguing, enough to turn the frown into a faint smirk. _~Come to the Space Room; that is where I am right now. You can explain what is up then. And if you hurry, you may yet have a chance to see something pleasant, for our little kitten is rousing himself from his forced slumber. Care to guess at his reaction to his new surroundings?~_ Midnight eyes watched the images shown as the form of their night's capture began to stir; those images were quite plain on the surface of the boy's mind as well, an invitation for Schuldich to peer in on their captive in case he was not able to reach the suggested room in time. 

*

At first, there was nothing but darkness; cold, lonely darkness that surrounded him on all sides, threatening to consume him in his greatest moments of weakness. A darkness that was inescapable to his exhausted mind, something that merely would hold him forever and never allow him to return to the life he had held before that evening. A life that seemed so very far away, taken from him by his own mistake in leaving his room those hours before when he had gone to search out his companion for the festival. He was being held from that, but was there that much resistance to it? At first, very little; had that life even been a life? It had been a lie, according to all that the night had revealed to him. He'd been living with people who had better things to do than kill people alongside some kid. He'd been living with Aya, who would have preferred him dead along with the targets, according to the words that the crimson haired male had spoken to him earlier. All that life, all those lies, were they really worth fighting a never ending darkness for? 

Maybe they had been worth it, before the festival; before the painful words the leaving of what he had always considered a friend. Before the loneliness of being abandoned yet again, as his father had so many years before, had set in. Yet, even afterwards there might have been some faint hope to fight for; some prayer that Ken or Youji wouldn't turn on him for being who he was. Some scrap of a dream that Aya had just been in a mistemper and had not truly meant all he had said. It had been a hope that was nearly impossible to grasp onto, but perhaps it have been what had kept him in some manner of form, still broken but perhaps not shattered, until he'd be found by that person who understood. 

Laying there, still consumed in the darkness, a small tremble broke the stillness that had fallen over Omi, an unconscious reaction to even the thought of that person. Schuldich. In his moment of hurt, he'd been found and convinced he could trust him. Only... He had been attacked after; he couldn't remember much of it. Except that sudden feeling of being twice betrayed in one evening. Twice attacked, in two methods, but both being an overpowering force. That second attack had been what had sent him into the darkness that held him now. The darkness he found himself too weak to fight, after all he'd been through. 

Yet... Something in him was actually trying to fight it. There was some part of him that refused to give in under the assaults. The bit of him that gave him the strength to lead a group of assassins in kill after kill, the shred of him that had survived being kidnapped and abandoned; that was what it was. The very core of himself that said giving up was not an option. That claimed that he had to move on, and now. It was his responsibility as an assassin and as himself. Tsukiyono Omi had not been raised to accept what was told him and then give in. He had to know for himself, and for that he had to survive. 

This was in no way an iron hard, sudden revelation. To the contrary, the teen still felt too tired to fight the shadows in his mind, but somehow he began to push them back. It was as tiring as trying to deal with the harsh parts of his evening, but he managed in some method, pulling on everything that he had to do so. And slowly he managed it, drawing himself back to an awareness he thought he could not achieve. 

That was perhaps his main mistake. 

Things slowly came back into being for Omi, but they were far from the faint hope he'd held that he was somewhere safe, instead of in the arms of his enemy, as he was slowly realizing the truth of. The first thing that he noticed was that he was at least laying on something padded. Not quite a bed, but it was certainly not the cold floor one would expect of a captive. The second thing he noticed was the smell apparent in the air; it was the smell of death, something he had been exposed to countless times before. But this was not a fresh scent of spilled blood, but the slow decomposition of it, as though death had been allowed to rot in the room, instead of being cleaned out. 

Where was he then? Somewhere comfortable, yet dead beyond all terms of dispute. It was a place of killing, to his few senses. And as much as he did not wish to realize what kind of room he was in, Omi forced his eyes to open, the action sluggish still despite his awareness slowly rising. He had to know where he was, at least. 

Very low light greeted him, the room cast in faint shadows that were difficult to see in. He brought his hand up to brush away his golden bangs, the fluff from them lost for the moment as they hung limp over his eyes. Able to see beyond his hair, he found little more to note, with the lighting so low that detail was impossible to distinguish. Drawing in a slow breath, opening his mouth to avoid smelling the air through a breath drawn from the nose, he pulled his knees beneath himself, fighting for some sort of position other than face first on the floor. Sapphire eyes still moved slowly about, searching for some sign of recognition that would allow him to identify where he was. Padded walls greeted his search, their tone a pale grey in the light, the purity of their white lost in the shadows. It seemed to be a cell of some sort, the kind that were used for the insane. The people more prone to hurt themselves with their struggles rather than any other. 

Why would they lock him in such a cell? Was he in an asylum? 

The lack of sound outside suggested otherwise. And what he noticed next confirmed it. Drawing in a sharp breath, this time ignoring the taste or scent of rotting death, Omi stared at the darker patches that spotted the walls and floor. Without the bright room lights apparent, it was impossible to detect the crimson shade of the splotches, but that could not stop his imagination from suggesting what it was. Trying to back away from the nearest patch, crawling back on his hands and knees, he froze again as he realized he was moving across another such patch, the cloth brittle and dry underneath his touch. 

Against his will, Omi uttered a strangled cry of surprise, a trace of disgust and fear mingling into his tone. A short scramble brought his feet beneath him, and he began to back away from the darker patches, trying to find some unstained place to rest himself. It seemed a hopeless cause, with so many of the shadowed areas covering the room. Growing desperate to separate himself from what his mind was certain was the blood of another who had died there, he fruitlessly tried to open the door, banging uselessly on it, the sounds muffled by the padding. A paleness took over his features as he tried again, worry entering his mind that whoever had killed a person here might still be present, ready to cut into his flesh as a punishment for being trapped in the cell. 

Looking around with wide eyes, he searched the shadows again. There was so little light, he could make out nothing. Naught but the patches and shadows that seemed to twist into the form of a person, waiting for him to turn his back. Trembles took over his form as the fear broke into his still exhausted state; fear of the unknown that was all around him. Omi was not one to adjust to being thrown into a situation he was not ready for; his life had carried upset after upset in that manner, ripping him from family and friends to face horror after horror. And now he was again taken from everything he had known and pushed into a place he did not. 

"I want to go home..." 

The words were whispered in a tone of painful wanting as the young killer backed himself into a corner, wrapping his arms about him as he looked around, fearful still of an attacker or a new unknown entering the situation. And as unnatural as they could have been, tears had begun to form in his eyes as he leaned up against the padded walls. He was alone again, and in a situation he wasn't prepared to handle. Even his weapons, a few chosen darts, seemed to be gone from his possession, lost sometime during the evening. And so only the honest truth was coming out... 

After an evening of nightmares, he just wanted to go to the one place he could not. Home. 

* 

"Oh that is just too delicious..." came a nasally voice along with a purr from behind Nagi as Schuldich peered at the video feed of Omi awakening in his cell. The mental images that the telekinetic had so kindly provided him had been intriguing and had hurried the German's steps towards the Space Room. Had it not been for that, he'd still be slowly sulking along, taking heavy slow steps and muttering unpleasant things about Brad every step of the way. But Omi waking up meant torment, fear, and pain! Someone else in misery, someone other than him, was a major **plus** in Schuldich's life. 

As he stood behind the seated figure at the computer, peering over his shoulder at the screen, the fire haired male's lips twitched up into a familiar sadistic smile, one which most of Schwarz was very happy to never have fully directed towards them. Sadistic smirks and evil gleams in his eye, yes, but never the full on sadistic grin. The man wasn't stupid; he didn't want to die just because he had a bit of fun at another's expense. As his emerald gaze watched Omi in the cell he hummed softly, directing little telepathic touches to the bishounen to soak in his anxiety and fear, fully enjoying it as one would candy. 

"Ah, Naggles, my chibi evil one, you did your hacker thing so I could enjoy this without having to lurk in Omi's panicked mind to know what he was doing!" The man's slender pale hand dropped to rest lightly on Nagi's shoulder before drawing away once more. "I could kiss you if I really wanted the retaliation of being thrown against the wall! And nein, Boobear was not as thrilled as one would hope..." Sighing softly, the telepath touched on Nagi's mind with a slow seductive caress and an 'instant replay' of the incident with Brad moved through Schuldich's memories to let Nagi see... with the more humiliating words and actions conveniently edited out. "You know how Brad is about his secret plans for the future. He told me once that if more than just one person knows, there's more possibility of it changing." Shrugging softly, Schuldich ran his fingers through Nagi's dark hair even though he knew he hated it. "He doesn't know you were involved so let's keep it that way. I'm used to having Brad miffed at me for whatever reason. No need for you to have to deal with it." 

Shrugging softly, he turned his attention back to the cornsilk haired boy on the screen as Omi backed into a corner and curled up as tight as possible to touch as little as possible in the padded cell. Mm, the only thing that would make this complete would be if the youngest Weiß assassin was to know **exactly** what went on in that cell. Farfarello had such... interesting methods of killing people. He perfected how long a death could be drawn out and how painfully, so even the escape of death was hardly an escape after the Hell that preceded it. But those details of how Farfarello how killed whoever's blood was encrusted on the white padding were in the part of the Irishman's mind Schuldich liked to call _'Hölle(17*)'_. They resided in the deepest darkest most insane parts of Farfarello's mind, the parts of his mind that yes Schuldich could delve into but he chose not to. Interesting details in the completely insane mind to a telepath was like a puddle of raw sewage with a gold trinket at the bottom. You can't even see the treasure and know it's there, but you can get it, after you wade through complete stinking filth that coats your skin and tries to drag you down into the completely disgusting murky depths. All in all, it was best to leave the gold trinket under the waste lest you become so surrounded in filth and insanity you forget what it is to be clean, or sane, in any way. 

Now wasn't that a lovely analogy. 

But lucky for Omi, Schuldich wouldn't be able to reach into Farfarello's mind and torment him with images of the painful bloodied deaths that happened feet from where he sat because Schuldich didn't want to lose himself in the dark insanity of the Irishman's mind. Instead the boy just had his own imagination. 

__

~You're awake, my kätzchen(18*)! I was ever so worried...~ Schuldich perked up into Omi's mind, the false words of concern dripping with his pleasure in Omi's confused and hurt state. _~Is your location safe enough for you? No one can easily get in to hurt you, and you cannot get out. And a padded wall and floor so you cannot hurt yourself! I thought of everything, ja?~ _

* 

Sunsoaked strands of golden hair flew in a ruffled upset as Omi looked about, a very unwanted startlement taking hold to his features. The voice in his head might have been welcomed, had it not "befriended" him merely to betray him; and for that, it now stood as something the youth would have liked nothing more than to banish from his mind. Yet the only action he could take was to shakingly raise his hands to cover his ears, as though that might block the voice that came from both nowhere and everywhere at once. Useless as that would undoubtedly prove, of course, but he tried it just the same. 

However, no matter what he tried to block now, those first statements and questions were still hanging in his mind. The voice and tone still echoing in recent memory as he desperately tried to hide in his corner and ignore what else may come. Or even forget that which had happened, an endeavor that failed completely. 

"This isn't what I meant..." 

Whispered words, in a tone that was barely a shadow of his more confidant and genki normal, broke the silence of the room as he shook his head again, hands still held over his ears to protect them from words that would penetrate into his mind, if Schuldich so decided. 

"I didn't want this; let me out," he continued, managing a tone far more steady than he could have imagined. Not one of perfection, for it still trembled, like his thoughts and fear, running rampant in his young mind, the perfect emotional and mental meal for the Guilty One to enjoy. "This isn't what I wanted!" 

No truer words could he have spoken. Being locked in a padded cell that carried the air of death was the very last thing Omi could have desired when he'd been in need of some place safe. And then to be spoken to by the sides playing telepath who'd betrayed the frail trust he'd been mistaken in putting in him, that was another unwanted thing. Another point in a night of such matters he could and would never have wished for. And it seemed that the one thing he wanted was not going to be granted to him, guessing by the tones of the German's mental voice; it was that which upset Omi the most. He was beginning to realize that perhaps he was stuck in the hands of his enemy for good. 

* 

Pale and thin fingers rose to resettle the hair that Schu's hand had slightly displaced, Nagi preferring his hair to be in place, unlike Schuldich's messy mane of "perfect" hair, of which they had already once spoken upon that evening. Yet still the teen couldn't see the perfection in the German's mess of hair; he probably never would. It was a lost cause, really, but he didn't want to debate that point any further. 

"So, we have to give him back?" he inquired, arching a brow as he watched the screen, seeing the boy speak to the empty room. Ah, Schuldich must have prodded or prompted the boy with a telepathic message, probably in torment. What a delicious concept, to tease and bother the kitten of the white hunters. "It is a pity," he continued, his voice growing absent as he watched the video feed, "and very unlike Schwarz to just hand back a newly found toy. At least tell me that your plan of how to deal with it keeps our image properly... Schwarz." 

Smirking lightly, Schuldich lounged in one of the rolling computer chairs near the monitor, giving the telekinetic a bit more of his personal space which the telepath knew the boy enjoyed and demanded. "You doubt that I could make something properly Schwarz? Naggles... sweet Naggles... I could make a fluffy _kätzchen_ wearing angel's wings evil. It's all in how you present it." Leaning back in the chair and rocking in it slightly, Schuldich ran his pale fingers over his cheek in thought, gazing lazily over at the younger Schwarz member. "Tell you my plan? Ah, Suess-chen, you should know better than to ask that. A true magician never tells the secrets to his show. Not even to his dearest assistant. You will be able to see how it plays out, do not worry." 

Closing his eyes, Schuldich let the boy's cries from the cell flow over his ears out of the speakers set up to Nagi's computer. Pure music to his ears. A soft sigh fell from his lips as he reached into the genki Weiß member's mind again after stringing lines between himself and Nagi so the dark haired male could hear his words as well. He used himself as a type of buffer so all that Nagi would get to enjoy would be the taunting words of the telepath. All of the chaos of Omi's mind was Schuldich's and Schuldich's alone to enjoy. To one not used to hearing onslaughts of thoughts every day, a direct connection to Omi's panicked mind would give one a horrible headache. But to Schuldich who was used to hearing the madness of the world, pain in one's mind, pain that he put there, was pure honey to enjoy and savor. And long for more. 

__

~This... isn't what you wanted? Omi, Omi, yes it was. You longed for acceptance, I accepted you into my arms despite our state as enemies. You longed for understanding, understanding that though you may never be able to grasp it, Schwarz does understand being outcast for being what they were born. You longed to be safe. You are now in one of the safest rooms of the city.~ A slow smile touched on Schuldich's lips and he half opened his eyes, the emerald irises glittering with an almost crazed look behind dark fired lashes. _~You never insisted that you enjoy that safety...~ _

A low chuckle sounded from both Schuldich's lips and through the connection before it fell silent once more. Turning his head to the side, he glanced at Nagi through the corner of his eye, his entire face twisted into devious pleasure as it most often was. "I think it is nearing time to pull our other kitten back into the game..." 

Midnight blue eyes pulled their attention from the simple, yet entrancing, computer screen, choosing instead to drop their intense gaze upon the lounging German, the subtle hints of curiosity growing in their depths. The other kitten was not one he had to guess at, but the purpose of bringing Abyssinian back into the little web of the Guilty One's game was something Nagi could not quite understand. Then again, to understand one of Schuldich's plans was to be as mentally (un)stable as the telepath, and being that was not exactly a priority for most. So, rather than guess at the twisted mix of a game the German was playing, Nagi figured it best to just play along for the moment and enjoy the results, such as Omi's current situation. He could still acquire a certain sense of pleasantness from the end result, regardless of knowing the plans of it or not. 

"Do you want to find him, or phone him?" he inquired, the finding comment in reference to the ever flexible method of searching out one mind amidst a million. The second option was offered, as the telekinetic could guess that Schuldich was probably tired from his previous exertions in the name of a good mental game. It was much easier to pick up a phone and call, after all, than to sift through thousands of minds to find one little white hunter. And the assassin undoubtedly had a cell phone, which Nagi could track. And in a most swift manner, since he did have a sort of back entrance into the Kritiker networks. Merely a few key codes and openings he had hacked back when Schuldich had decided to screw with Weiß, by having Nagi build and send and image of Takatori Reiji and Omi together for the purpose of the little game; a game that had ended in a headache for the telekinetic, a dead daughter of Reiji, and a good golf club beating of Schuldich for punishment. Regardless of the results, he still had the connection and could have whatever information Kritiker kept on their computers about Weiß in his hands and ready to use. Including phone numbers, right down to a personal cell. 

So much more efficient than looking in a phone book, really. 

And it merely waited for a word from Schuldich, and Nagi would bring it up. In the meantime, however, there was still the ever entertaining reactions of the so-called genki fluff. Until the decision was made, he could occupy himself with watching that. 

*

Pale hands lowered themselves from delicate ears, the attempt at blocking the voice in his head proven useless by the newest round of words to counter his own. Arms wrapped again about a slender form as Omi drew back into the corner further, trying to merely hide or disappear, if such were possible. And feeble hope was better than none at all, so he held onto that at least, to keep sane and stable. Or as stable as he could manage. 

"This isn't what I wanted," he repeated, closing his eyes to block out the sight of dark stained walls, only to find their images imprinted in his mind, staying visible despite his want to see them disappear. He was probably going to possess bad dreams about the situation for weeks to come, until he forced himself to forget it, like he had forgotten everything else bad in his life. Well, those things would happen if he survived the situation... 

"Leave me alone! I take it all back! I don't want to be understood anymore! I don't want to be safe like this. I just want to go home..." Starting first in the unmistakable shouting tones of an angry youth, the words trailed off into a mere whisper as they were spoken, the energy draining from his tone. Repeated words and claims; it was what he was capable of, and all he was willing to speak. He did not want to believe what Schuldich was saying, despite the fact that the telepath's words felt too true. Like they were the answers to his questions and statements, just not the ones that Omi wanted to be true. Then again, he knew that he would not be allowed free so easily, no matter how much he demanded it. And he knew that Schuldich was likely to just laugh it all off and tell him to make himself comfortable, for this was going to be home. Yet, he still had to try; to hold onto that faint hope that had kept him alive for years. Hope that was rapidly dwindling... 

* 

A cruel smirk that often found itself on the telepath's lips appeared there as he listened to Omi's words, delighting in the chaotic mess that was the boy's mind at the moment. He wanted to be left alone, very well then. He would be left alone with his thoughts in the darkness... with only the smell of blood and decay to keep him something. Sometimes being alone was the best type of torture for a person. Panicked thoughts could cause more destruction to a person's mind than any game Schuldich could ever play. As the saying said, you are your own worst critic. This applied in so many ways. And Schuldich found it to apply to the human mind so often as a person could be the most detrimental to themselves, and not even realize it. Taking apart every single little thing done and beating themselves down for it... without another ever saying a negative thing to them. 

It was beautiful, really. And something he sometimes would prod to push a person further to the edge of self-criticizing. Something he thought that Omi was famous for after seeing his mind. 

__

~If you truly wish to be left alone...~ he spoke softly into the younger assassin's mind, a low sigh echoing over the mental connection to the Weiß assassin. He was actually very much glad to have a valid reason to withdraw from the boy's mind. The massive use of his telepathy that night was starting to give him a splitting migraine that he could feel creeping up on him. It hadn't fully hit yet, thank God, but he thought that may have something to do with Brad's quiet mind near his. Maybe for once the American was letting the telepathic feeler that was always next to his mind settle in the silence for a bit, knowing the German still had a long night ahead of him to fix this 'mishap' with Weiß. Also, Schuldich didn't have time to focus on Omi's repetitious whining. He had another kitten to focus on. 

The telepathic connection drowned out with what almost seemed to be a dial tone, the nasal tones of the Schwarz member leaving Omi's mind entirely. Soon even the mental buzz in the back of the sandy haired boy's mind left, leaving him only in silence and darkness with little else than his own thoughts. 

After wiggling out of Omi's thoughts, Schuldich turned his slightly clouded gaze to Nagi. "Ah, my Naggles, though I do usually prefer reaching out and touching something, phone number, please." He passed his gaze over the computer monitor and looked down at the keyboard where Nagi's hands rested. Never once did he attempt to touch the computer in any way. He'd break it. And Nagi would break him. Ow. "Do your magic, Nags." 

Magic it hardly was, but Nagi did get to work; a few choice programs, of his own design, were brought up on the screen, the telekinetic taking hardly a moment to connect to the Kritiker network. As he had known would occur, he had nearly free access, his computer having convinced the other that he was perfectly authorized to take a look at whatever file he pleased. Seconds later, he had Abyssinian's profile up on the screen and was digging for the contact information that would lay in there somewhere, possible further encrypted. 

The teen released a small sigh as he found what he was looking for, slightly disappointed that it hadn't been hidden further from his prying hand. There was no challenge to it, he was almost bored by it. Reading the number over, Nagi brought up the computer dialer, entering the digits. It would be easier to just call Abyssinian through his computer; Nagi could then be aware if someone was trying to track the call while Schuldich could speak freely and not have to worry about that kind of thing. 

The staticed tones of a phone line ring filtered into the air as he connected with the cell. "There, as soon as he picks up, he's yours for the fun of it," he informed the German, fingers hovering over the keys. While keeping alert for possible trackers, he also planned to try to track Abyssinian. Not that he would succeed, but it would be a possible challenge, at least. Something to satisfy him after the pathetically simple hack that had been the Kritiker network. 

"Danke, Naggles," the German telepath purred in anticipation as he traced his fingers lightly over the small microphone Nagi had for his computer, the electronic device sensitive and of a high enough quality to deliver a better sound quality than a phone. He could not wait to hear those bass tones of the Weiß member over the phone line. Could not wait until he could deliver his little message to Aya and hear the strained barely repressed anger in his chilled tones. Yummy. He did so love being able to have an effect on the untouchable ones, in whatever way. 

Sitting in the darkness of his room, the crimson tressed katana expert sat on the edge of his bed, staring out at the gentle peace of the night outside his window. A soft sigh fell from Aya's lips as he lifted his gaze up to the lunar satellite hanging high in the darkness over the city. After he left the festival he had gone to the hospital to check on his sister and stayed there until visiting hours were over and it was time to go. The entire time he was there he just stood by the bed holding the angel faced girl's hand, staring down at her and wondering what had happened. How could he have heard her voice when she was here... 

None of it made sense though it had made perfect sense before. Little did he know that it didn't make sense now because once he left, Schuldich had ceased warping his thoughts for his own purpose and allowed Aya's own usual logic to take over, after the initial anger Schuldich spurred in him died off. Now not only did his words not make sense, but his own thoughts about Aya-chan and Omi ceased to connect up logically. His sister was kind and accepting... she would never long for her brother to scorn others for her, it just wasn't her way. And his words to Omi... his thoughts expressed may have been reality in his mind once but he had accepted the fact that by blood Omi was a Takatori long ago, and had seen that the boy was indeed Tsukiyono Omi as he had proven. To Weiß, and to himself. 

Cursing softly, he tugged on a crimson tendril of hair and leaned his forehead against the window. Ever since he'd left the festival he'd been brooding over this but it still failed to make a bit of sense. What had come over him... 

It still ceased to make sense. He wished the boy would come home but... doubted he would soon since the redhead had threatened him with death the next time he saw him. Hearing a sigh echo in the room, Aya pressed his fingers to his forehead, his teeth gritting in frustration. What the Hell had come over him? Though he had never been particularly nice to the others of Weiß the thought to threaten them with death with pure cruel intent backing his words and never crossed his mind. 

The low tones of Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty waltz which the male had set as his cell phone's ringer broke the silence and for a moment he thought to just ignore it. But few people had this number... the hospital staff for word on his sister and Weiß. The faint flicker of a thought that it could be Omi on the other end prompted him to answer the call promptly and not just turn the device off. 

"Fujimiya desu," the male answered his voice like a frigid wind on the Arctic wasteland, expressing none of the emotional exhaustion and confusion he felt at the moment. 

For a moment, only a low seductive chuckle answered the katana expert's flat greeting. Aya's eyes widened for a moment, as he quickly was able to place those low mocking tones of laughter. 

"_Guten Abend(19*)_, Abyssinian!" Schuldich greeted far too cheerily, lounging back in his chair as he slid his eyes shut to try to picture the male's face at the moment. 

"How did you get this number..." came the reply to the cheery evening hello. 

The German held back a soft purr as he could hear the anger in the man's voice, practically a tangible force in the bass tones. "Oh, it wasn't that difficult. Hackers have their ways of finding things. Speaking of which..." he said in soft tones, feigning innocence. Something that would never match with the nasal tones of the German Schwarz member in Aya's mind. "It's 11 o'clock pm, do you know where your fluff is?" 

Sitting up more rigidly on the bed, Aya's eyes narrowed into slits, his hand clenching down on the top sheet of his bed, dreadfully wishing it was Schuldich's slender neck between his long fingers not cotton thread sheets. "What the Hell did you do to him..." 

Schuldich laughed softly again at the man's question. "Me? Why I didn't do anything to Omi-chan. Especially not... oh, I don't know... threaten to kill him the moment I saw him again?" The telepath's words dripped success and sadistic pleasure, anyone hearing them easily able to feel the dark smile on his lips as he spoke. 

The Weiß redhead's fingernails pierced through the bedsheets as his eyes widened, remembering feeling tiny brushes of staticy intrusion in his mind earlier. He hadn't been able to hear over the noise of the festival. "It was you who made me say those things." 

"Oh now sweet Aya-kun, do you always do what the voices in your head tell you to do?" Lifting his hand, the German male drummed his fingers on his chin, his smile staying on his lips as he glanced over to Nagi, dropping the young Schwarz member a wink. "Really, you mustn't do that. People will think you to be insane." 

"The only insane one is you, Schwarz--" 

"Oh. How cute. Are you trying to insult me? Really I'm surprised you haven't just screamed 'shi ne' like a banshee yet." Chuckling softly, little evil wheels turned in Schuldich's head as he contemplated his next words to fully put Aya into the palm of his hand, ready to do exactly as he asked. "I most likely am insane, but I'm hardly the only one in Schwarz who is. Don't forget my lovely white haired friend." 

"You're all insane." 

"Ja. No words of denial of that will come from me on that point. Demo, Aya... maybe I should mention something to get you back on track. Speaking of Farfarello, right now Omi is in a very... very messy cell." He sighed softly almost as if regretful. "Farfarello always did like to make a mess when hurting God." 

Aya was silent on the other end for a few moments, his hand on the bed which had been clenching at the sheets earlier was completely relaxed. His entire body felt weakened at those words and he shut his eyes only to open them again quickly, not at all liking the images of the knife happy Irishman he'd met with a few times... doing a**nything** to Omi. Omi... the sweetest and most innocent in his ways of them... A tight cold knot formed in his stomach, a similar feeling he'd had when he'd watched Aya be struck down and there was nothing he could do to help her. "So... you simply called me to tell me that my teammate is dead..." he said in a low voice, even lower than it had been a few moments before. 

Lifting his hand to suppress a yawn at the beginnings of Aya's mourning for the young boy, Schuldich flickered his eyes over to Nagi and then emerald irises rolled skyward. The marble block of ice named Abyssinian had a heart. Quaint. "I never said he was dead, Aya. Though I imagine he wishes he were by now... I heard him whimpering earlier, but he's quiet now. I guess he lost the energy to cry for help when he realized none was coming..." 

A low sigh came over the lines as reached a hand to rub at his temples. "What do I have to do to get him back before you kill him, Schuldich. I imagine you called for reasons other than to tell me these things. Usually your methods are a bit more... vivid." 

The German just smirked softly and shook his head. "Ja, it does seem very much to be my style to torment you with mental images of what happened in that cell to make it so messy, but even I try not to think about the things Farfarello can do with a knife and a soft tender body. You want the kid back, and I want to play a game with you. So here is what will happen. In an hours time you will meet me at the park where little Ouka met her end. We all know how much fun I had in that particular spot. You will bring yourself, no weapons, no traces, no other Weiß members. I will bring Omi. And we will go from there." 

Ivory teeth pulled at a soft bottom lip as Aya pondered for a moment, his fingers clenching on the sheet once more as his only outward sign of stress. "How do I know you even have him?" 

"You don't know where he is…" Schuldich just smiled softly in return. "Are you willing to take that chance? I will see you there. " 

Reaching over the fire haired male pressed a button on the keyboard to end the conversation, letting just the endless dial tone ring in Aya's ears. 

Turning midnight eyes on the telepath, Nagi waited to see if that unnerving mix of a smirk and a smile would go away before he spoke. However, that was likely asking too much; the telepath was enjoying himself too greatly to grant such a patient request. Not that it mattered. Nagi was used to putting up with that odd grin; the German wore it too often to upset him any longer. It tended to unnerve other people, but for the telekinetic, it was merely a hint that Schuldich was either enjoying the fruits of some twisted game or was planning to plant the seeds for another. In this case, both; the German was likely still on a high from little Bombay's predicament, as well as now setting the foundation for another round of his unique deceptions. 

Speaking of which... 

With a soft shrug, to dismiss the odd train of thought that had been weaving through his mind, Nagi stood, straightening to his unimpressive height and locking eyes with Schuldich once more. No words needed to be exchanged; the telekinetic knew enough of what Schuldich's plans would be. Not the finer details of the games, but he was aware enough that they were to get to the park of endless-Weiß-distress with the pathetic fluff within an hour. Preferably earlier, to allow Schuldich time to set up anything else he might have needed. So that left Nagi to get said fluff and meet the German in the garage while the other gathered what else he might have needed to complete his night of joy. 

Without a word, only a short nod given to acknowledge his part in this next stretch of the night, Nagi turned and left the Space Room. Time to retrieve the little kitten for the last game of cat and mouse. Only in this game, it was the mouse that did the hunting.

*  
TBC  
*

__

(17*) Hölle - hell   
(18*) kätzchen - kitten   
(19*) Guten Abend - good evening 


	8. Cruel Justice * Part Seven

Within the confines of the ensanguined walls had the young Weiß member curled into the corner with the fewest crimson stains, his arms wrapped around his legs and his face hidden within that bodily enclosure. Sapphire eyes were kept shut, the smell of death enough to upset him without the constant remainders of darkness splashed across the walls. His shoulders no longer seemed to tremble with soft cries, his breathing evened and minimal, in a poor attempt to avoid the stench of decay that hung around him. 

Omi had reached his limit, finally falling into a deadened state of exhaustion; almost as though his mind had shut down on him, leaving a barely functional body behind. Such was not the exact truth though; the teen still thought and hurt, however he lacked the energy to respond to most of it. Amazing, it was, how tiring it could be on the body and mind to have your trusted friend turn on you and then find yourself willingly in the hands of an enemy who took joy from that betrayal. 

Home was a faraway concept now, Omi's mind wandering more to what was to happen next. No longer did the German answer those mental questions, the soft humming having dissolved into silence so long ago. Silence that was hard to bear on the nerves of an already hard pressed mind and soul. Ever since beginning his life as Tsukiyono Omi, the boy had faced difficulty with being completely alone. He was one of the more social members of Weiß, and to be isolated as he had been, both by Weiß and Schwarz, was difficult to handle. It lay as another grain of sand on what was turning into a stretch of desert in his pain. 

The sound of the door's lock being unlatched and the creak of that door slowly opening lured those sapphire tones open once more, the sandy blond looking up from the safety of his encircled arms. The light of the hall flooded the room, blinding him for a moment until a shadowed figure moved into the door. It took the assassin a moment to realize that it was Schwarz's telekinetic looking at him, some shallow hint of disgust on that calm face as the white hunter was observed. For his part, Omi stared back at him, his eyes lacking the vibrant life and defiance that should have been expected from the most dedicated and young assassin Kritiker had. 

"Time to go," Nagi said simply. "The next game is starting." 

*

The harsh darkness of post-twilight had begun to fade, the midnight moon casting an ethereal light upon the grounds where Sakaki Ouka had lost her life to a round in a twisted game meant to shatter the minds of Weiß. Schwarz had been responsible for that, just as they were responsible for this new game dawning, again involving Weiß in their little play to succeed where they had failed before. 

Ignoring the haunting feel of the softly cast natural light, Nagi stood near the top of the stairs where that blue-haired girl's blood had been spilled, eyes that matched the hour's sky observing the grounds below. Searching for the pawn that was to arrive and play the game. Near him was the other piece for the round, a very silent Bombay kitten. There had been little struggle to get the teen out of the cell and to Schuldich again; it seemed that the life had nearly drained out of the genki child. Not that Nagi cared; he actually preferred the silence that the boy provided. Made for less of a complicated situation. Except, it was starting to be unnerving to not hear that voice or see that energy rising up to try to defy Schwarz. He was accustomed to the methods of Weiß's hunting the dark beasts, not the broken stillness that had taken to the assassin's form. 

As his thoughts wandered to the boy, Nagi turned his coldly bitter gaze on Omi, finding no sapphire, either defiant or dead, looking at him. The golden head was tilted towards the ground, eyes staring uselessly at the ropes that bound the boy's wrists. A few token attempts to loosen them had rubbed the kitten's wrists to a raw red, his momentary burst of life deadened by the lack of strength or escape left to him. 

"Pathetic," he said, his voice soft and low as he turned again from the Weiß killer. "You broke him too well, Schuldich, he won't even blink now." A brow arched as the telekinetic looked over to the telepath. "Is he any good to the game like this?" 

The slender form of the Schwarz telepath was leaned against a tree, bright emerald eyes closed as he reached a light mental finger around the area so Aya would not be able to surprise them. He had found him, just a few blocks away. The redhead's thoughts were relatively guarded and in a swarm of other people in the streets, as well as Schuldich's head was starting to pound from the extensive use of his powers over the past few hours, so he decided not to pry. For now. He could influence the male more easily when it was just the four of them in the abandoned park. Hearing Nagi's voice, Schuldich opened his eyes, the irises almost feverishly bright with the man's own sadistic pleasure of the game he had been playing with Weiß all evening. They were disturbing to look at truly, an unnatural glowing color in the darkness of the evening. 

Moving from his lazy position against the tree, Schuldich walked over to where Omi was, running his fingers lightly along the boy's sore wrists, rubbing none too gently on the broken and raw flesh before moving his hand up to cup the boy's chin. Frowning lightly he made the boy meet his bright gaze, seeing just dulled sapphire, the boy's usual brightness and eternal cheer vacant, leaving his irises oddly hollowed. Almost as dark Nagi's gaze, only Nagi had his own hatred and scorn in his eyes, flickering in the blue depths, Omi was just now... empty. A tired rough touch of telepathy moved over the surface thoughts of Bombay, Schuldich finding exactly what was shown in his eyes. Despair, loneliness, abandonment, completely giving up. 

Rolling his eyes Schuldich brought his hand away from the boy's face and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling as he looked at him. "Ja, I suppose I did break him." The comment was punctuated with a light shrug. Sometimes the telepath could be such a child... he would beat and beat and beat on a toy forever but he scowled and sulked when it finally broke because then he had to go get another playtoy. "It doesn't matter now Nags, all we need is the other..." he murmured softly and glanced out at the stone pathway leading out of the park. The moonlight lit the way to where the three were but the crimson haired male had yet to make an appearance, but Schuldich could feel him drawer closer. "It won't be long now..." 

* 

The awaited man made his way to the park where Schuldich waited, every single step Aya took was with mild dread and worry though one watching would never be able to see a bit of hesitation in the tall man's composure. Determination was visible on his face and the few people still walking the streets in the late hour didn't bother him and he didn't pay attention to them. It was obvious he had somewhere in mind to be and intrusion and delay would not be tolerated. 

Aya's iced violet eyes were in their usual frigid control, revealing none of his thoughts. He knew that he was walking into a trap that was obvious. For awhile he'd considered not going but Schuldich had been right. He did not know where Omi was and the chance was too great to take. If they had the youngest Weiß member and he just allowed them to keep him, he would never be able to forgive himself. 

Seeing the park up ahead, a tiny breath fell from his lips into the cool air and he left the main sidewalk, continuing on the main pathway to the destination permanently etched in his mind. Never would he forget that park where he'd heard the heart wrenching screams of a boy having a bit more of his innocence stolen from him. Within minutes the man arrived at the bottom of the steps and when he glanced up, he could easily see the fiery red shock of hair that was Schuldich, a faint outline in the shadows that was probably another member of Schwarz, and just barely visible in the moonlight he could see honey blonde hair... Sighing in mild relief to see that Omi was indeed here, Aya took a few slow steps up the stone stairs. 

Smirking softly as he heard his angered and worried thoughts coming long before the man came into sight, Schuldich turned to stare down at the steps to greet the returnee to the game. "Welcome, Aya-kun. So glad you decided to take the chance and come to us tonight..." 

Narrowing his eyes at the man's broad smile and smug words, the redhead paused on the steps. "I came for Omi, not for your damn games, Schuldich," he called out, his voice deep and echoing, stirring the still cold air of the park. An odd aura fell over the entire area chilling Aya to the bone but he tried to push it away. The last time they had been here with Schwarz, with that member in particular, a sweet innocent, ok annoying but innocent, person lost their life. That fact and reminder hung heavy on Aya's conscience, every faint breeze whispering those words in his mind. Every dark shadow broken only by the moonlight holding some dark secrets of what was to come. He could only imagine how Omi felt to be here, and fully in Schuldich's hold. 

The careless touch on his wrist took a moment to register, pain seeming to slowly move through his body, his nerves as tired as his mind and unable or unwanting to relay any more hurt to the boy who had already gone through so much in from the festival alone. Register it did though, the hurt of the rough caress enough to stir a momentary bit of life into the boy as the telepathic touch brushed away from his mind from the momentary search. It was a dull pain in his wrist in comparison to the rest of his life, but still enough to make Omi realize that the evening had not shifted into the dream his mind had hazed it over as. 

Dull sapphire eyes slowly took on focus as he tried to rouse himself, finding little in the way of his reserves, which had been drained dry long ago. All really had left was the ability to move in a near lethargic fashion, his actions and reactions slowed by a lack of strength fueling them. Limited to that, he merely tried to figure out where he was. No longer the padded cell or the festival, that was at least clear. Cold stone lay under his knees though, tribute to being outside with the cool air that chilled his bare legs. He could feel the cold seeping into his body, a gentle tremble forming in his shoulders as the only sign that his form was unable to keep itself warm as it should against the cooling temperatures. Pale fingers slowly curled closer together for warmth, hands moved with care to keep the sore rope burns from the rope's rough edged treatment. 

Here he was, the supposedly proud white hunter of the dark beasts, reduced to a shivering broken form staying barely upright on the stone path of a park. Hands and mind bound still and silent by the touch of the dark ones he was supposed to kill. Driven to that shadowed creature's arms by the twisted words of a friend; words that seemed so out of place even for the coldest member of Weiß. Pathetic, it was... He was supposed to be the intelligent manager of Weiß. Being captured in this fashion was shameful and stupid. And not only captured, but by Schuldich. Of all the dark people in the world, it was Schuldich who had found and taken him in during his moment of weakness. Who had played his emotions and mind, luring him with the promise of safety, then throwing him in a room of death and enjoying the terror that had arisen in that. Had come back for a second taste of the teen's pain, the first round with Ouka having not been enough for him. 

For a moment, his thoughts dwelled on his half-sister, who had fallen prey to the German's little games such a short time ago. Thinking about her still hurt; a friend and member of his family that had been killed because of him. There were still times at night that he cried over the loss of her life, blaming himself for being Weiß and delusional enough to think he could lead a normal life with someone like her. She'd died on a night like this, because she had known him. No reason more than that, just that she had known Tsukiyono Omi, the killer, florist... And fool. 

Schuldich's voice broke him slowly from the depressing memory of the bright young woman, drawing deadened sapphire attention to the one the German was speaking to. Raising his head slowly, Omi stared at Aya, his eyes almost blank and uncomprehending of why the redhead was there. For a moment, fear tried to flicker in his tired young eyes, a memory of the telepath's earlier game and the threat on his life that had been uttered coming to mind. The fear died out into weaker worry, the boy unsure now of what was true and what was false about his evening. 

Soft golden bangs half obscured his view of the other white assassin, but zaffer tones still dully peered out, slight hints of confusion tainting the edges of his irises. "Aya-kun?" he asked, his voice little more than a hesitant whisper, containing the question of what the other was doing there, so late at night and speaking with Schwarz. 

The air that night was still, hardly a single breeze stirring the crimson hairs brushing against the redhead's pale face. It was only that fact that allowed him to hear his youngest teammate's soft voice whisper his name though there was still a large amount of distance covering them, the redhead standing on the stone steps near the bottom of the incline. Gem hard amethyst eyes softened faintly in well-hidden concern, his irises seeming to have no change in the pale moonlight, his facial features still as hard and tight as they were a moment before. Not even wanting to think about the suffering the boy had gone through after his own teammate had threatened death and left him, Aya made his way up the rest of the stone steps in a swift smooth gait, the man walking gracefully, never seeming to rush and never making a single sound as he took each step forward. 

Reaching the top he moved automatically to the younger member of Weiß, keeping his motions careful and unthreatening so the two Schwarz members wouldn't think he was trying to aim a weapon at them in a swift motion. He'd brought none, as told. It really wouldn't do much good against a man who could easily make him turn his own weapon on himself. He just wanted to see that the boy was alive and fine with his own eyes. Kneeling down in front of the smaller form kneeling on the stones, he frowned lightly as he noticed Omi was pale and shaking. If that was all that was wrong though, after tonight, Aya was lucky. He never had been very lucky in life though. 

Moving slowly, Aya removed the long leather jacket he'd worn and put it over the boy's shoulders, the lining of the jacket still warm with his own body heat. He was well aware of the fact that his back was to Schuldich, something he wasn't fond of, but there wasn't much he could do about it. If Schwarz wanted him to die tonight, they already could have easily made that happen. A light frown touched on the redhead's lips as he settled the jacket over Omi and touched his fingertips to the tight bindings on his wrists, but never once did he make the motions of trying to remove them, not with Schwarz just standing there staring, waiting for him to make a single misstep. 

Standing up, the redhead left his hand resting lightly on Omi's shoulder. With his jacket off, it was obvious more so that he had no weapons hidden on him. Squeezing the smaller male's shoulder faintly and almost awkwardly, the redhead never good at giving comfort. Turning his attention to Schwarz as he stayed at Omi's side, violet eyes sought out vivid green, Aya angling his head to the side. "Let's get this damn game of yours over, Schuldich. I need to take Omi home and undo what you did." 

The scene between Aya and Omi was watched with mild interest, though Schuldich kept glancing his gaze down to the stone ground to see if the two were just **dripping** sap. _Gott_, he was going to get cavities. Or just have a heart attack from disbelief. As the older Weiß took off his jacket to put on the youth, the telepath had skimmed over his surface thoughts to catch what he was thinking. He hadn't dug long enough to get clear thoughts, the man having strong barriers, but feelings of worry, guilt, and concern were very much apparent in his mind though they never touched his face. Unexpected really, from the ice-cold bastard of a leader of Weiß, sickeningly touching. And enough to make the game Schuldich had planned that much more fun. 

Leaning against a tree casually, he allowed the redhead to go to his teammate. Part of him was just itching to tug on their minds a bit more and try to have the two just kill one another here but... damn Brad... he said to put them on the road to fixing the team, not breaking them. Damn Brad, ruining his fun always in some way. Pushing his unhappy mutterings away, he let his eyes meet with Aya's and rolled his eyes. Look at him, trying to also spoil his fun by rushing through this. This was the best part! Damn man was more like Brad than they'd all ever admit... 

"Are you always this.... annoyingly boring, Aya?" Schuldich asked with a smirk and nodded to a stone table and bench under the branches of a tree. "Come, sit. Bring sweet little Bombay as well." 

"I'd rather not," Aya said flatly, quite content where he was, wanting to do as little as Schwarz ordered as he possibly could. 

Just letting his smirk turn to a dark grin, Schuldich sat down on the bench and stared hard at the two, making them feel possibly as deer feels when frozen in headlights. The prey caught and unable to do a thing about it. "Then maybe I don't want to let either of you go..." 

Sighing faintly, Aya lowered his head almost in defeat but used the motion to glance down at Omi. As much as he just wanted to walk away from all of this with the boy, he knew Schwarz better than to really think they'd allow that. They were completely at Schwarz's mercy... but he'd already decided that he would not leave Omi's side and leave him to the fire haired telepath. He'd already once tonight, though not fully in control of his own actions, he'd done it. He wouldn't again... 

The shudders from the cold that had haunted his form were beginning to subside, the body-warmed lining of Aya's jacket providing Omi with the warmth his own body was failing to provide. Though the cold stone still pulled what it could of the heat away, the jacket did greatly help to keep the rest of his body warm, acting as insulation against the cool air. 

At first, Omi had been pensive at the sight of the other Weiß member, his mind clearly reminding him, in its current half-aware fashion, that Aya had threatened to kill him when next those violet eyes fell on his form. Worry that the male had come to deliver that to him, he'd almost cringed at the red-haired male's approach. Bound and unable to defend himself, he would have been an easy target to kill, much as he had been an easy toy for the telepath of Schwarz to lure in. 

However, rather than trying to kill the boy, Aya had slipped off his jacket for him to wear, to beat back the cold instead of letting it consume him. And now he stood next to Omi, a hand on his shoulder as though to make certain the boy would remain there. No suggestions of a second abandonment appeared to be present, Aya staying with him as he spoke with Schuldich on the terms of whatever deal had been arranged. Still he felt confused about why the katana expert was present, though it had begun to dawn on him that Aya was there to get him away from the enemy. Slowly that concept began to rise in his mind, daring to find a bit of hope to give the boy in its appearance. 

Yet, even with that flickering of weak hope, he was still quite useless for the moment. His eyes moved too slowly to follow Aya's actions, dispirited blue eyes giving up that action to watch the German that Aya had turned his back on. No promise of death hung in those eyes, that odd blankness still present, the lack of energy masking the few twitchings of life that were trying to revive themselves in the face of a possible ally. The hunting look that was turned upon them seemed to get no reaction, save that of Omi's eyes casting downwards, the will and want to see the German fading quickly. He just wanted to go home, to not see Schwarz ever again. And to finally sleep, instead of the fitful bits of so-called rest that he'd had when Schwarz wasn't tormenting him or dragging him around. 

Hearing the slight sound of a sigh, the boy tried to gather himself, slowly lifting his head again. Faded sapphire eyes met with the deep amethyst, seeing what could have passed as a suggestion of defeat haunting the often calm and confidant tones. For a moment, he couldn't quite understand why Aya was feeling defeated, until the last few words of Schuldich registered. The German wanted both of Weiß to move closer to him, but Aya clearly didn't. However... The consequence of not doing so was that neither of them would be allowed to go free. He paused at that, his mind suddenly speaking up about the matter. 

Realization finally fell into place as to why Aya was there. To play a game, as had been mentioned, but it was the prize that had likely drawn the assassin out into what must have seemed like a trap. Schwarz must have made a deal to hand Omi back to Weiß in exchange for Aya playing one of the twisted German's games. So Aya was there to get him away from Schwarz, not to kill him or mock his capture or any of a thousand things his mind was trying to suggest was the redhead's purpose and presence. But, as could be expected, Aya didn't seem to want to be a puppet to be bent and played with as Schwarz pleased, thus the hesitation in doing as Schuldich had requested. 

The shaded blue eyes of the teen reflected some level of that realization as he gave a faint nod to the other. To defy Schwarz too strongly at this point would be to give up both of their freedoms, something Omi would never be able to live with if it happened. Had he the strength, he might have tried to stand and move towards wherever it was that Schuldich wanted the pair. However, that was not possible. Instead he was relying on Aya to catch that slight hint of approval and know that he understood to some extent what was going on and what had to be done. 

Catching the younger boy's soft nod and seeing some of the confused and frightened haze clear from Omi's deep blue eyes, Aya leaned down to pick the boy up, seeing that he hadn't moved at all save that nod since the redhead had arrived. After the mental torment Schuldich had most likely put the boy through, Aya doubted the blonde had much strength left. Partly because of his own exhaustion as well as to appear drained and broken so Schuldich would leave him be. The youth was easily lifted in strong arms used to wielding a heavy blade as Aya moved over to the stone table, wanting to give Omi some sort of support even if it was only silent. 

From his spot at the table, Schuldich just merrily kept his grin, watching the two as they approached the bench opposite him. Glancing over to where Nagi stood in the shadows, he motioned him over to join them to watch the fun. For once the German kept his nasal tones silent, wanting the two Weiß assassins to see for themselves what lay on the table between them, and guess its purpose. It was far more fun in a game like this if the pawns made their own conclusions. 

Setting the younger assassin down the bench first with care, Aya took a seat next to him and peered down at the stone slab between him and Schuldich, a slight frown touching his lips. Sitting on the stone table were two long cylindrical darts, the moonlight glinting on the pointed edge. He recognized them immediately, as he'd easily recognize his own katana, Balinese's wire, Siberian's thick leather gloves with retractable claws... The darts sitting there were Bombay's own, the boy almost never without them in any circumstance, always having a sleeve of them somewhere on him. But obviously in his short time with Schwarz, they had confiscated the darts. Peering down at the darts, Aya's frown deepened as he glanced at them, seeing that they were filled. But if it was the poison or tranquilizer as Omi used both, he couldn't be sure. Only Omi knew for sure... 

"So..." he said in a slow voice, tilting his head at the man, trying to guess his game as paranoia ran deep in his mind. They'd already once worded something to make him think the worst about what had happened to Omi, was this just a repeat? Aya was very good at figuring people and their motives but Schuldich was a complete blank... "If you wish to kill us with our weapons, why didn't Crawford just do that weeks ago on the street, why have me leave my katana at home?" Aya hissed, a dark violet glare setting on the German. 

Who just grinned. "I never said that I would kill the both of you, Aya. Everything that happens here is really... up to you." Reaching down to the table, the telepath picked up one of the darts and slowly rotated it between his fingers, keeping the even eye contact with the Weiß redhead, the violet flame glare never once fazing him. 

Consumed in the shadows, Nagi seemed almost reluctant to leave and reveal his presence to the white hunters. He was a creature of solitude, not sociality, and his inclusion in this game was hardly necessary for his appearance near Schuldich. Yet, he moved still, walking calmly to where the telepath was, midnight eyes flickering on the broken teen and the redhead who had come to save him from Schwarz. Honestly, it was like a pathetic sappy movie, with the hero arriving to save the cute one right in the nick of time. Those movies sucked, quite frankly; everyone knew that it was just cooler for the bad guy to win, and far more likely. Darn theatre and its flair for dramatic lies, such as good always triumphing. Pft, who had ever heard of that foreign concept? 

Taking a stand behind and to the side of the German, the young telekinetic looked to the darts and then to the Weiß kittens, curious to some level as to the details of what Schuldich was playing at here. Not that he was involved; his presence was more to flatten, literally, any resistance that attempted to surface in the others. Aside from that, he was more of an audience than anything at the moment. 

Two darts... Were they his? 

Staring at the weapons for a moment, it took Omi a bit of time to recognize his own darts. But his they were, two that had been hidden on his form as a matter of habit, and two that had been taken from him sometime after the festival departure. Keeping his eyes focused for a closer inspection was proving difficult, so he turned his eyes instead on Schuldich, who was toying with one of the two deadly weapons. Oh, for the luck to have the telepath grow clumsy and jab himself. In his dreams, or half-hazed thoughts at least. 

"What's in them?" he asked, the tone of his voice still quiet, timid in speech for fear of responses he did not want to here. Had he time and energy, he might have been able to remember or decipher what was in each dart, habit and knowledge able to have him figure out what darts of his he kept what chemicals in. Little use that would have done if Schuldich had replaced the contents with something else, but it would have been a start beyond the lifelessly spoken question he had asked. 

"_Wissen Sie nicht tun Sie?(20*)_" was the soft reply from the telepath, a darker grin touching his lips as he continued turning the dart in his hands. A faint chuckle crossed his lips as he caught Omi's hopeful thought at him pricking himself with the point. Not likely. A clumsy assassin was a dead assassin. Running his finger down the long dart, Schuldich just grinned at Omi and dropped him a wink, his jaden eye sparkling with far too much cheer. 

Setting the dart back down, the German leaned his chin on his hand, looking down in interest at the darts as well as the two Weiß members had been earlier. They were indeed Omi's own, but what had been in them before only Omi knew. What was in them now... only Schuldich knew. In preparations for the game, he had taken the two darts and drained the canisters of whatever they held. He couldn't have them holding one liquid when he thought they held another and ruining the game! Draining and cleaning the hollow cylinders had been trying and time consuming but he couldn't have any remnants of the original liquids in there. Why did he use Omi's own darts? Because the two didn't know his intents, only he fully did. And he liked the irony of using their own weapons against them... as he had used them against one another in a way... Using something dear to one against them was just thrilling. He had to admit, he wished he could have been there awhile ago when Brad held Aya's own katana to the redhead's neck. His mind and panic must have been delicious, feeling his failed and would be killed with his own weapon... 

No more thinking on the past events, Schuldich! You have a mind game to play with two wary and weary kittens! 

"What's in them indeed. I can't tell you that though, how is that fun? It's far more enjoyable if you figure it out on your own..." Glancing over his shoulder, he sent a dark smile to his younger teammate as if sharing some secret with him, but he was also telling the boy through nonverbal communication to just wait. The plan and game would be revealed soon enough. "Could be poison... could be a tranquilizer... could just be water and that's not really great to have injected directly into your veins..." 

Aya's slim hand rested between Omi's shoulder blades, rubbing the boy's back lightly as he listened to the man speak, highly annoyed but they all knew he could do nothing about it. He easily guessed that the only one who knew what was in those darts was now Schuldich maybe Nagi too, the telepath probably drained them and replaced the contents, just using Omi's own darts as some kind of addition to his game. Where this game was goin he... thought he knew but he didn't like the possibility one bit. 

"What's your game, Schuldich. I'm cold and this is boring." 

Pffting his fiery hair from his face in mild annoyance, Schuldich rolled his eyes at the man. "I bet you were the only kid in school who always wanted recess to end because you didn't know how to play the damn games, Ayan. Stop rushing things, it's highly annoying." 

"If you brought us here to play with darts and discuss my childhood, I think we'll be leaving. Some other time." 

"Sit!" 

"Get to the damn point, Schuldich. Your dramatic flair and dragging things out is obnoxious." A bit snippy to the super psychic powered man? Maybe a bit but Aya was always blunt and to the point, and was cold. And doubted he'd get any points for good behavior for going perfectly along with whatever game Schuldich had laid out before them. 

Dark green eyes fixed on the redhead of Weiß, Schuldich inwardly cursing. He just had to be his usual bitchy attitude filled self didn't he? He was so going to hurt Brad later for not letting him kill the two and be done with it. Maybe not hurt him, the man had a bad backhand. Just retaliate in Schu-like ways... like giving him hentai dreams about Ouka... 

None of his annoyance showed on his face, never losing that cocky 'I'm pulling the strings and we all know it' look. Aya may be pulling snippy attitude but Schuldich really did still hold everything. "I want you to choose, Aya." 

"I choose to go leave--"

"Exactly."

"Nani?"

Smirking softly, the telepath pushed his bangs from his eyes and picked up one of the darts, holding it out in his palm. "Only will you leave this place after you choose which of these to inject into yourself and into sweet little Bombay's body. I leave the choice to you, that's fair, _ja_? The choice is yours, the consequences are yours." 

The redhead felt as if he had ice water running through his veins at those words, hearing Schuldich speak exactly what he had been dreading would come from those lips after seeing those two darts. Everything Schuldich did had a purpose... a weird one, but a purpose, that he knew. The only way they would leave here would be for him to inject something given to him by Schuldich into himself... and Omi? To touch anything given to you by the enemy was foolish.... 

Finally finding his voice, he brought his gaze down to the dart lying in Schuldich's hand, not touching it yet. Not accepting this... offer yet. "Why are you making me decide this." 

"You're the leader of Weiß, _kätzchen_, thought you liked making the decisions," Schuldich replied with a soft shrug. "And... I think Omi-chan has made enough decisions tonight, ja? He already decided to come to me..." Eyeing the honey blonde, he just chuckled softly. 

Gritting his teeth, Aya made no comment back to the telepath on that matter. "How can I properly choose the action and the consequence without knowing more, Schuldich..." 

"Always so logical and needing fact," Schuldich murmured, setting the dart back down again. Though he had picked them up and twirled them many times during the conversation, always he knew which was which. "_Wie sehr langweilig(21*)_." 

Ignoring the man's comment even though he knew enough German to know what he said, Aya pressed on. "Are they holding the same contents?" 

Leaning his cheek into his hand, Schuldich 'tsk'ed lightly and shook his head. What, were they playing Twenty Questions now? Whatever... at least Aya was playing again. "_Nein_, their contents are different." Running his tongue over his bottom lip, Schuldich smirked softly. How different he would never say... 

"How do I even know you are going to release us, this isn't just a ploy you worked to capture me as well?" Aya asked, raising his eyebrow in question at the telepath, still not touching the small darts. 

Another soft chuckle touched over Schuldich's lips at the question and he just smirked, meeting the cool amethyst gaze. Even though the man showed nothing on his face or in his gaze and had a tight lock around his mind now, the telepath continued getting faint hints of worry and slight fear from the redhead. Absolutely delicious... 

"Well, I guess you don't..." Aya was **really** starting to hate that never leaving smirk on the man's lips. Schuldich caught a hint of that dislike and just chuckled softly, setting the dart back on the table but still running his fingers over it. "I will tell you that this one..." His long finger tapped on the dart, the dark aura about him telling them easily that the information he was to reveal wasn't exactly a favor to them nor was it kind advice to help Aya choose. "This one has... far far more drastic results than the other. I assure you whichever this is injected into will be released... but... I make no guarantees on their state when they are released." 

Winter sky eyes gazed down at the dart with a faint frown. Well that didn't help much. That told him little and what it did tell, didn't sound promising. Far more drastic... that could mean anything. Aya narrowed his eyes as he saw in his mind himself injecting that into Omi's vein hoping for the chance that he would go free, only to discover it held a poison that caused a slow excruciatingly painful death. Of course that person would be released, what use for a corpse would Schwarz have? At that lovely scene in his mind Aya looked to the telepath, not able to tell if that had been his own imagination or some careful thought placement by the man. Looking at Schuldich, he still couldn't tell if the man had infringed in his mind or not. 

"And... the other?" 

Schuldich just grinned darkly and shrugged. "Do you want me to tell you which to pick as well, Aya?" 

"What are the effects of the other and will that person be released as well?" 

"That one causes more pain... And I make no promises." Running his fingers through his hair, Schuldich took his hands off of the darts. "You have two minutes to decide. If you try to stall for more time at the end of those two minutes, I will simply knock you both unconscious and drag you back to base to make you my own personal sex slaves." Purring softly, he eyed the two and licked his lips. "And your two minutes started sixty seconds ago." 

Schuldich was certainly skilled in his choice of playing field, tactics, and tools; for the second time that evening Nagi had to concede that in his mind. As good as he was at hacking and with telekinesis, the youth could not match Schuldich for the spoken word or intricate plot. He, of course, preferred the direct method, but watching the German play his game was giving him a sense of appreciation for the indirect one. Of course, he still intended to leave the games up to the German while he kept with his methods. One should always stick to what they knew best. 

Each time that those jade eyes fell upon him, Omi felt a shiver pass through him. Far beyond unnerving, Schuldich was upsetting to be in the presence of, much less the focus of his attention, and he couldn't wait to be out of the man's sights. And hopefully somewhere safe this time, but he was no longer placing bets on that kind of eventuality. Just getting away was something he wanted, and however that happened he was beginning to lack the care for. 

Most everything spoken was considered, the tracks of logic needed to follow each last detail upset by the evening that had preceded this new game the telepath was laying out. He did, in the end, understand the basic ideas of what was going on. Two darts, one for him and one for Aya; both filled with something, and likely not the same thing in both. The choice that Aya was expected to make was which dart to inject into which Weiß member. One promised release but with unknown effects, the other was an uncertainty, promising more pain and nothing more. 

The choice was an impossible one to make, and they only had sixty seconds left to make it in. Or rather, Aya had sixty seconds left, since Omi was hardly in the shape to make a decision. Schuldich was right in that he'd made enough decisions for the evening, and most of them bad. To make another one would be to simply curse both their fates, since he would be wrong in it anyways. 

"Go, Aya-kun," he whispered, closing his eyes and taking a slow breath. "It's not worth it..." 

For Schuldich's little comment about his time remaining, Aya sent a deep glare the telepath's way before turning his attention to the darts, everything the telepath had said about them running through his mind. He barely had anything to go on to make a decision like this, but the consequences of if he didn't have a decision made within a minute was less than promising. Bastard Schuldich... giving him little time to go on and even less information to go on to make this decision which could easily by the sounds of it be a matter of life and death... but... whose.

Folding his hands under his chin, he didn't even react to Omi's words as far as his appearance showed. Omi... though it had been the honey-haired assassin's decision to step to Schwarz's arms for acceptance and comfort that had led them here, whose fault was it that the boy had been forced to that? Aya's... He had let his damn hatred of a dead man and antagonism towards Omi that was now buried resurface from Schuldich's prying, outweighing his logic and judgement, ruining an evening that Omi had just wanted to be pleasant. It had been enjoyable... until Aya allowed the telepath to play on his one main downfall, which led to Omi who'd already faced so much rejection from those close to him being hurt. 

Schuldich gave more clues than he may have thought he did... It was a word logic game, Aya just had to decipher it and quickly. One promised release, the other Schuldich made no promises on. One delivered more pain than the other. But the German had told him that they didn't hold the same contents. Perhaps the one said to deliver more pain meant that person would be kept in Schwarz's hands for torture while the other lived free of Schwarz hands? Or was a drug to bring a slow painful death while the other...

Sighing softly again, Aya brought his thumb to his mouth and ran his nail over his lips in thought. Blinking as his concentration was broken, he glared over at Schuldich who ws humming the Jeopardy theme under his breath. "Would you kindly stop that?"

Grinning softly like the cat who'd stolen the cream -**and**- the canary, Schuldich just continued humming the theme. A bit louder this time since he knew it annoyed the redhead.

Keeping his murmuring complaints to himself so Schuldich wouldn't cut his time even more since he was wasting it, violet eyes wandered to the side to glance at Omi through his peripheral vision. Of the two of them, his younger teammate was the one who deserved to be released and not face possible death or permanent imprisonment with Schwarz. He was probably the most 'normal' of Weiß, the youngest with the most promise in his future since Weiß was disbanded. The boy could get along with anyone, had a maturity far past his years, and was a near genius with the computer. He was the last person who deserved to possibly die here in the cold night because of a simple game of Schwarz's... with their own damn weapons not even in hand, but in the enemy's. Aya was called the leader of Weiß and his actions had led him here, moreso than Omi's... so he needed to take responsibility for this. If either of those darts held a poison to kill, it should go into Aya's veins, not the genki teen's. Aya just had a sister to live for... a sister who it seemed would never wake up no matter how he wished. Omi had so much more to live for... and far more noble reasons for doing what he did. 

He had to choose the dart that promised release for Omi. And if it was one which would kill him... maybe if Aya was taken into Schwarz's... loving custody, he could convince them to return the boy's body to Weiß. Ken and Youji had been in the team with the boy longer than Aya himself, they would make sure that the boy at least got a proper burial--

"Time's up, _kätzchen_," Schuldich perked up, his nasally tones breaking into Aya's thoughts. Grinning maliciously, he nodded down to the darts. "As they say... Pick your poison."

Pushing away the little thread of doubt that was creeping into his mind that he'd figured incorrectly at those words, Aya just sighed. Closing his eyes for a moment, Aya reached over to take the dart which Schuldich had said the one to receive it would be released. Reaching over he grasped Omi's arm lightly, smoothing his thumb over the soft skin of his inner elbow. Uncapping the dart, he bit his lip and slowly pierced the smooth honey skin of the boy, injecting whatever liquid was in there into the boy's vein smoothly. Never once as he did so did his violet gaze leave Omi's sapphire, apology for the possible outcome in his lavender eyes. Shaking fingers released the dart to let it clatter to the ground, Aya moving his gaze from the boy to not see the effects of the dart if they were fast. Picking up the other which had just promised more pain, he pulled up his long sleeve shirt and pulled his own skin tight, the needle pushing into the vein.

The entire time Schuldich sat by, twisting a lock of his fiery red hair about his finger, enjoying the quick thoughts of Aya brushing across his. The way the man thought was intriguing, taking in even the tiniest facts and details and turning them over in his mind quickly for the best possible situation. Useless really but interesting.

His smile grew as he watched the other redhead inject the darts into first Omi and then himself. Never once did he lie about the effects of the darts... Aya just looked at it wrong. As he had wanted him to. Glancing over at Nagi as the dart contents started to do their work, the man dropped an emerald eye into a wink even as the two Weiß assassins slumped over on the bench, their bodies completely still. 

"_Spiel rüber(22*)._"

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*  
TBC  
*

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(20*) Wissen Sie nicht tun Sie? - Don't know do you?   
(21*) Wie sehr langweilig. - How very boring. 

(22*) Spiel rüber - Game over

A note about the English -- German translations. I am **not** fluent German speaker. They're prolly wrong or at least not quite right. I'm sorry. Please don't flame me. If you are a fluent German speaker and are highly offended by my attempts to use the language, blame online translators!


End file.
